


Phoenix Queen

by Sereven



Series: Death's Warden [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Female Harry Potter, Master of Death Harry Potter, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-06-09 00:01:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 27
Words: 196,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6880984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sereven/pseuds/Sereven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Third time's a charm. Sadly that does not count when it comes to reincarnation. Reborn as Senna Peverell, a noble born lady in the city of Myr, he tries to enjoy a peaceful life for once. Yet one fated meeting with a noble stag quickly changes everything. In hindsight, she blames Death for everything. He likes his prophecies and playing his games with her far too much...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Jewel of Myr

**Author's Note:**

> HI there. This story started as a crossover challenge from a friend on another fanfiction site. But seeing as that site is slowly falling apart, I've decided to post the story here as well. Just in case.
> 
> I have to admit I am a bit lazy right now, so I won't repeat all the details of the challenge, but I will give you some of the main points.
> 
> \- This story is a fem!Harry/Rhaegar story, set in the years before Harrenhal.
> 
> \- Fem!Harry has been reborn in Westeros as Lady Senna Peverell, who has Valyrian ancestors.
> 
> \- fem!Harry's name is Senna Peverell
> 
> \- Senna has certain gifts from her first life (not just her magic)
> 
> \- Senna has a phoenix, who had been the bonded familiar of her Valyrian ancestor
> 
> \- Senna has dragon eggs
> 
> \- there is another prophecy involved as well
> 
> Of course, there is more, but I already mentioned, I'm lazy right now.
> 
> Alright, I do know that fem!Harry is not everyone's cup of tea, so if you don't like it, just leave. I will not bother with those who can't accept this and complain about it.
> 
> The story starts in the year 278 AC, the year Robert's father would have perished after searching for a bride for Rhaegar Targaryen.

"They are coming," the deep rumbling voice whispered in her ear.

Senna tried to ignore it, like a buzzing fly, annoying but ultimately harmless. As a little child she had been scared by it, but as she grew up to become a stunning young woman, her memories slowly returned and the voice changed from a constant tormentor to an annoying but reliable companion. Or whatever the incarnation of Death should be called.

"This is the third time. The third life and once more you have sent me to a world where I have to endure the same trials, again and again," Senna moaned, as she left the potion's lab to gather some more plants from her herb garden.

"I can only send you to these worlds to start anew, whatever happens, there is your bad luck, mistress," Death chuckled darkly.

It was always the same argument. By now she often rued the decision to unite the Deathly Hallows in her first life as Harry Potter. It had bound her to Death as his Master... at least it had enabled her to defeat the great evil of her first existence. The consequences of her actions only hit her, when she regained her memories in her second life. Death had played a wicked game with her. Whereas she had been a boy in her original life, Death had seen it fit to change that for her second and now even her third existence.

But some things never change. In all the lives she had to face great evils. And in all three lives, she had to grow up without parents. And though, much to her surprise, she now once more had a name that had been connected to her first family. This third world had shaped up to be the strangest and most dangerous of them all.

"They will come to take you away, mistress. And this time, you cannot deny them," Death continued, as she tried to ignore his warning.

Senna did not wish to think about it. This new prophecy. Another feverish dream of a fraud, only, this time, the fraud had been her own ancestor, who had lived countless years before she had even seen the light of this world.

So she ignored Death and instead she cared for her plants. In her first life she would have never enjoyed Herbology and Potions as much as she did now, but when Death tried to ease the burden on her shoulders, he had seen fit to gift her with a plethora of things from her first life. The magical plants were just the best part of it. With the potions she could brew, she had helped the people in Myr, her people, on numerous occasions. And she had vowed to continue doing so, no matter what the future might bring. If there was one thing all three incarnations of her had shared, it was the urge to help people in need.

"Your time in Myr has always been limited, Senna. You cannot fight it. You are the legacy of Valyria now and as such your fate lies elsewhere," Death continued.

Senna sighed in exasperation. The thought of leaving scared her, especially when things truly follow the pattern of that damned prophecy.

A flash of fire appeared next to her, but Senna was not alarmed. No, her face lit up with joy, as she saw her faithful phoenix companion on her shoulder.

"Fawkes! You've finally returned. I've missed you, my friend," Senna cooed, as she caressed his soft plumage.

The majestic red and gold bird must have felt her distress and decided to return to her side once more. For nearly a year he had been away from her, doing whatever a burning bird does in his free time.

"Of course the flaming chicken returns now," Death sighed.

"Hush you, Fawkes has been with me for longer than you have," Senna chided softly, her attention still on the bird, who obviously enjoyed her ministrations.

"Only because unlike him, I knew no to butt in when you were just a drooling babe with no memories of her past lives," Death replied indignantly. "And I can't believe that you insist on calling him by the name of the old fools' bird. This phoenix belonged to your ancestors."

"I like the name Fawkes better," Senna replied defiantly.

Death chuckled, "No, you just can't pronounce his real name."

"Just go and die in a ditch, you evil specter."

"Unlike you, I can't," Death chuckled once more.

"Doesn't mean that I can't hope you will," she proceeded to ignore Death once more and returned her attention on the phoenix instead, who trilled contently as she petted him.

Fawkes stayed for a few more moments before he suddenly lifted off from her shoulder and hovered a safe distance above her. She was surprised at first, but as she looked around in her garden, she saw why he had retreated.

On the terrace, just outside of her herb garden, stood one of her servants. Roro, the head of her family's servants, a former slave, who had been set free when Senna had insisted on rewarding the man for his loyalty, despite her guardian's warnings.

"Lady Senna, Magister Varghan is here with some foreign guests to see you," Roro said, as he waited obediently for her to leave the garden.

It was the primary rule in the Peverell estate, that no one is allowed to enter Lady Senna's garden. No matter how often the servants tried to dissuade her from doing the manual labor herself, she wouldn't budge on this.

"So this is it. No more running, I guess," Senna muttered, as she left her garden. But as she looked at herself, she saw that her dress was not even close to being considered proper for meeting a Magister of the ruling Conclave of Myr. Neither would it make a good first impression on whatever guest he has brought. "I will join them shortly after I have ensured that I am presentable. See to it that my guests have all they could wish for. I will not be known as a bad host."

"Of course, Lady Senna. It shall be done. I will send Alia and Lanna to assist you," Roro said before he bowed and left as swiftly as he had come.

Senna smiled, as she watched him leave. Roro was truly the epitome of reliability and loyalty. Without him, the whole estate would likely burn down within in a fortnight. But her time to ponder this was cut short. She had to get ready. Magister Varghan was her greatest supporter in this city and akin to an uncle. Letting him wait would not do at all.

* * *

Steffon Baratheon was seldom surprised. He was well versed in the customs of the Westerosi nobility and that of the Free Cities, though he had not left the Stormlands since the war against the last Blackfyre pretender. But when his king, Aerys Targaryen, had sent him out to find a befitting bride for his son in the Free Cities, he had little hope that he could possibly meet the man's criteria.

Volantis, Lys, Tyrosh, Pentos, but not a single girl that would be worthy of the heir of the Seven Kingdoms. He was about to return home face the wrath of his king when he had heard the rumors about Myr's most sought after noble lady. A true Valyrian beauty, hailing from one of the oldest family's in Myr.

And now he was here, to meet this so-called Jewel of Myr. A girl revered by all the people, rich and poor, slave and free. The girl that the Magisters of Myr guard most jealously. Had it not been for Magister Varghan begrudgingly agreeing to let him see her, he would have never gotten a chance to meet with Lady Senna Peverell.

When he and his wife had arrived at the Peverell estate, it became even clearer just what kind of lady they were here to see. It was one of the biggest estates in the city of Myr, showcasing wealth and pride for everyone to see. Sitting on a hill, slightly above the rest of the city, her home did look like the summer retreat of a royal family.

And the place was certainly guarded like a fortress. He was sure that he had seen no less than three dozen guards patrolling on the streets surrounding the estate alone. Their insistence that he had to come unarmed and without his own guards only was further prove of the importance this girl had for Myr.

As they entered the estate, they saw a majestic banner flying proudly above the main building. The banner was a golden bird on a crimson field. And as the banner fluttered in the wind, it looked almost as if this bird was rising into the sky, to reach the sun itself on its way.

"That banner," Magister Varghan began, "Is the banner of Lady Senna. Before there was only the Peverell banner, but Lady Senna disliked it and the history behind its creation. And now… the Phoenix banner. It is Lady Senna's very own sigil. The golden Phoenix, a depiction of a bird that has been by her side since the day she had been born," the Magister explained.

"I've never heard of such a creature. Are these birds native to your land?" Cassana, Steffon's wife, asked. She, just like her husband, looked in awe at the intricate red and gold banner.

Varghan laughed, though no to mock, as he assured quickly, "Lady Senna is the only person who has ever managed to capture one of them. In fact, her Phoenix is the only one ever found," he explained. "But come now. I have no desire to make the lady wait. Her time is precious."

"The people of Myr seem to love her dearly," Cassana commented.

"That would be putting it mildly. Before she had been born, the Peverells had been seen with great suspicion. Old blood often follows strange traditions and rituals. Rumors of dark sacrifices were common and most people quickly left, when a Peverell made an appearance."

"But not the young lady," Cassana prodded.

Varghan laughed again, "No, not our beloved lady. Lady Senna has grown up without the wretched influence of her family, due to her parents' demise when she had been a girl of four. I've been assigned as her caretaker, ever since the conclave had taken control of her fate. Unlike the damned rest of her family, she has blossomed into a beloved figure of our city. And she did it all by herself. She knew that she could not free her family's slaves due to the suffocating influence of the magisters, but she has always treated them better than anyone else in the city. And she helps the sick and poor whenever she can, using whatever ability she has. Truth be told, a word of her would be enough and the commoners of Myr would rebel to install her as queen of Myr. But the Magisters and powerful families desire her affection even more than the poor and unfortunate, so they do not fear her… as they most likely should."

"Why?"

"You will have to see for yourself," Varghan said, a mysterious smirk on his face and a mischievous glint in his dark eyes.

It was a very unsatisfying answer, but Steffon knew, that he would have no choice but to wait. He doubted that the Magister would be forthcoming on this topic. But what he had said so far had been quite enlightening. Now he was even more eager to see this lady with his own eyes. And from the way Cassana looked, she felt the same.

The servants inside the lady's not so humble home seemed all in a hurry, yet they never looked disorganized, as they arranged everything to accommodate their visitors.

Strangely enough, there were no guards inside the estate itself. He would have expected armed men at every entrance, yet there were none. Only servants but they watched the visitors every movement. Were there guards hidden amongst these people or were they just exceptionally loyal and protective of their lady? They were obviously slaves, collared and branded, just like all the others in the city, but they without a doubt adore their mistress.

Soon enough the servants had brought food and drink. Various delicacies from the Free Cities and beyond and likely some of the finest wines money could buy in Myr. But Steffon was not here to feast and drink, his whole attention was focused on meeting the lady.

And his wait shouldn't be too long. Soon enough a door on the far side of the large room opened and a group of female servants entered, all dressed in fine myrish lace and silk. But these girls could not even hope to catch anyone's eyes when their lady entered after them.

The Jewel of Myr, a well deserved name. A true Valyrian beauty, with pale blond hair, like cascades of pure silver that fell onto her shoulders and eyes like dark amethysts. King Aerys would do anything to get his hands on this girl. Her face was quite lovely to look at and though her womanly curves were not quite as prominent as for other ladies her age, she carried herself with a grace that seemed almost otherworldly. Dressed in a silvery gown of silk and myrish lace, her looks would even put Queen Rhaella to shame.

"May I introduce, Lady Senna Peverell, last of ancient and most distinguished House Peverell," Varghan introduced, as he approached the girl. He kissed her cheeks in greeting, an almost intimate gesture that made it clear, that he was certainly close to this lady and would likely speak on her behalf, should she need a man to do the speaking for her. She did not look like she would need him for that, though.

"I greet you, Lady Senna. I am Steffon Baratheon, Lord of Storm's End and the Stormlands, envoy of his majesty, King Aerys Targaryen…"

"I am well aware of who you are, Lord Baratheon. My dear friends have informed me of everything you have done since you have left your ship in the harbor," Senna replied evenly. "But I must ask you, why did you request to see me?"

"My lady, the king has sent me with one specific mission to the Free Cities. One that I had not hoped to fulfill… until I was granted the privilege to lay eyes upon you."

"You are searching for a bride for that spawn of his!" Varghan stated blatantly.

Senna smiled at the protective streak of her pseudo-uncle. He often reminded her of Sirius Black, from her first life. Though he was much… less smooth in his attempts to woo women and slightly more round than high in stature. But Varghan, just like Sirius, would die to protect her. She just hoped that he wouldn't follow Sirius example in that regard. Fortunately, he was already too old to fight himself… that did not mean, though, that he wouldn't send his sons in his stead.

"Prince Rhaegar is the heir to the throne," Steffon said, as diplomatic as possible. "And as such his father wishes to find the best suitable wife for him."

"And now, the Phoenix has to be guided by the noble stag," Senna heard Death whisper in her ear again. Of course, he would start quoting that darned prophecy now of all times. "You can't run from destiny, Senna."

"This is my home, Lord Steffon. I've been born here in Myr. It is where my family has begun… and where it will end," Senna said, a hint of sadness in her voice. Of course, she had always wished for a family of her own. But she also knew that the Peverell family would end with her. The male line was extinct and she was the last to carry this name in this world. One of the last connections she had with her first life, doomed to disappear forever.

"I can understand your feelings, Lady Senna. No one likes to give up their home. But please consider our offer. King Aerys would be beyond delighted to have you as his daughter in law. And there is no finer man in the Seven Kingdoms than Rhaegar Targaryen," Steffon told her with conviction.

Senna remained silent, as she weighed her options. Death was insistent that this was the moment of truth. She would either follow the prophecy or suffer the consequences. But leaving the only home she had known in this world to marry a total stranger… this reeked of the incestuous pureblood traditions she had learned about in her first life.

"It's not like you have a choice, Senna," Death whispered again.

"Just leave me alone," Senna muttered, slightly louder than she had wished.

"I beg your pardon?" Steffon asked. He had heard her, but he wasn't sure what she had really meant by this.

"I..." Senna was quite embarrassed by this and quickly turned away from her guests. Oh, how she cursed Death. She had obviously made a fool out of herself. "I need time to think." She said brusquely before she stormed out of the room.

"Did I say something wrong?" Steffon asked, still confused by the lady's sudden reaction. Just why had she left so suddenly? Was there something he should know about?

"This meeting is over, Lord Baratheon. Lady Senna has spoken and you will wait for her answer… on your ship," Varghan said, his voice leaving no room for argument.

This meeting with Lady Senna had certainly taken a strange turn, but Steffon would not be deterred this easily. This girl was exactly what they had been looking for. Noble birth, great influence in her home country and the blood of ancient Valyria in her veins. If he could win her over, her presence might take some great burdens of the king's mind… before it shatters even more.

* * *

Senna, meanwhile, had retreated to the gardens once again. But instead of the herb garden, she had gone to the terrace furthest away from the main building. From there she had an excellent view over the city and the harbor. Ever since she had been a small child, she had loved to watch the ships come and go. But now she could also see the ship Lord Baratheon had arrived upon. The heavy Westerosi ship stuck out like a sore thumb between the light merchant ships around.

Fawkes had returned to her side once more and sang a soothing song for her. A small smile tucked at her lips, as she closed her eyes and allowed the music to calm her. In this moment, she did not realize that she was still very much visible to the people below on the streets and that the man who visited her was among those who watched her with great interest.

"Here you are," Magister Varghan had come and stood next to her now. "Quite the exit. You should have seen the dumbfounded look on the face of that audacious man. Seriously, to come here to win you as a trophy for that prince of his."

Senna smiled sardonically at him, before she answered, "He is a man with very strict orders from his king. And apparently I am the only girl fitting the king's high standards."

"You are fit to be a queen, my dear. But he will never get his hands on you. The conclave won't allow it," Varghan assured her.

"And what if I want to be their queen, uncle?"

"Do you? I only know so very little about your family's history, but weren't your ancestors quite clear in their dislike of the Targaryens?"

It was true. After Valyria had been lost, her family had been among the last of the Freehold's nobility. When Aegon Targaryen set out to conquer the kingdoms of Westeros, he had all but ordered them to follow him, for the sake of their shared Valyrian culture and ancestry. But of course, her ancestors had refused and settled in Myr instead. There had been no further direct contact ever since, except for a handful of fights between Peverells and Targaryens in the many conflicts between Westeros and its eastern neighbors. And now this foolish but noble stag had come to claim her, the last of her family, to be the wife of a Targaryen. Death truly loved his ironic stories.

"The time has come for me to accept that House Peverell and its proud history will end with me. Clinging to the past is not healthy and will only destroy my future. But I'm not sure where that future will take me in the first place," she sighed deeply, her eyes wandering towards the Westerosi ship once more. Was there even a choice in this? Most likely not…

"Whatever you choose, my dear, I will do whatever I can to protect you," Varghan stated.

And again, the man reminded her so much of Sirius. The same kind of devotion to a child that is not even of his own blood. It only made her wonder, what her father had done, to inspire such friendship and loyalty in this magister. When she had been orphaned, he had taken her as his ward, to fend off the attempts of other magisters to gain control over her family's fortune. He had raised her, protected her and even now he continues his vigil over her as if she was his own precious child.

"I will leave you to your thoughts, for now at least. I have to return to the conclave. They will want to hear about this meeting," the magister muttered. He went over to hug her once more, which she gladly allowed him to do before he turned and left.

"I really have little choice in this matter," Senna said once more.

"Do we ever?" Death whispered once more. "Not unless you wish to see this world suffer. It may not happen in your lifetime here, but it will happen unless you do your utmost to prevent it. You should have learned that there is always truth in the prophecies."

"So this Baratheon is the noble stag? And that Targaryen prince is the dragon..."

"That would be correct. Ironic, once more a stag appears to influence your life, just like James Potter," Death chuckled darkly, "Quite surprising that you still oppose this."

Senna grimaced, as she clearly heard the mocking note in that statement. She couldn't escape that darned prophecy when she had been Harry Potter. Neither could she avoid the second one in her life among the gods… and now she was supposed to be a queen? She never wanted any of this. All she had ever hoped for was a chance to have a family of her own. Someone to love and someone who loves her back equally. But apparently her life wasn't meant to be that easy.

"So it is settled. I surrender myself to my fate once again," there was a grim determination on her elfin features now. She would do what it takes, but she would not allow others to dictate her life as they please. They want a queen? She would give them one to remember forever.

* * *

The conclave of the magisters was in an uproar, as Magister Varghan recounted the meeting between the presumptuous lord and their precious jewel. They loathed the very idea that anyone might come to take her away from Myr, from their sphere of influence. More than half of the men in attendance had their own plans to push the lady towards one of their sons. Her power, her influence and most importantly, her wealth would crush the balance of power for the noble families in Myr and whoever managed to snatch her away, would without a doubt be able to claim the crown of the city of Myr and its lands. It was too good an opportunity to waste. Unless, of course, the lady decided herself that she wished to leave. They knew that they would never manage to keep her against her will, not with those strange powers of hers.

"We should chase this interloper out of our city! Burn his ship and send him into the sea to drown for this audacity," one of the older magisters raged, as he stood before the other members of the conclave.

The rest sat in a half circle in front of him, some supporting his words quite ardently, whereas others showed no open interest at all. But those few who agreed were enough to fill the dome like hall with tumultuous clamor.

"And then what? War with the Iron Throne? We've seen enough trouble with those Targaryens and their accursed spawns. Just send him back, without our precious lady and forget about him," another magister stated, much more calmly and reasonably.

"Varghan, you've spoken with Lady Senna, what is her word on this man's proposal?"

Varghan scratched his bald head, as he weighed his words. He did not want to trouble Senna with ill-chosen words that might not even begin to describe her own state of mind. And he wasn't sure whether he had read her correctly.

"Lady Senna is… torn on this matter. She is well aware that the time of the Peverell family has come to an end, but it seemed that she has yet to come to a conclusion where the legacy of the Peverells will end," Varghan stated cautiously.

But his words alone were enough to cause another uproar in the chamber. Of course, the Magisters wouldn't be happy about this. To them, there was not even the question where she should stay. Myr is her home and her obligation. But the possibility was quite real, that she might just as well leave and never return here.

A ripple of voices went through the crowd when suddenly the very person they were arguing about had entered their chamber. Lady Senna had arrived, much earlier than Varghan had expected. But her appearance was very much welcome, as it ended the quarrel among the magisters.

"Lady Senna, we are delighted to have you among us," one of the magisters said silkily, as he watched the young woman with greedy eyes. Varghan would have demanded a duel from the offending man for this blatant disrespect, but he was far past his prime and no longer able bodied to do such a thing. So he had to settle for glaring at the man and putting an end to each of his schemes that involve Senna. It would be his pleasure to crush his dreams.

"Honored Magisters, I come here to discuss the very topic that you have been arguing about just now. The ominous offer of Lord Steffon Baratheon," Senna said loud and clear.

"So you've come to ask us to get rid of this presumptuous fool, Lady Senna. Fear not, he will be gone before the sun sets this evening," one of the more eager magisters assured her.

But Senna only rewarded him with a benign smile, before she shook her head. "No. This is not my wish."

A shocked silence settled in the chamber. Even Varghan looked at her with wide eyes. Had she decided to leave? Was this it, was this her last appearance in this chamber, where her ancestors have caused havoc and spread hatred and fear?

"I have the wish to further pursue the proposal of Lord Steffon. Make no mistake, I have yet to decide whether I really wish to marry that Targaryen prince, but at the very least I wish to travel to Westeros and see this man myself. I cannot and will not marry a man I've never met before. Therefore, I request your blessing to leave for King's Landing," Senna said.

She had not decided to marry. That was something good, at least partly. But the magisters were still quite displeased, that she had decided to leave, even though it might be nothing more than a visit to another great city. Unless, of course, the Targaryens decide to keep her by force, which they might very well try to do. They would learn how futile that is, though.

"Are you sure that is wise, Lady Senna," Cossomo, the oldest man in the council asked her. "For all we, know those Westerosi know little of honor. We cannot in good conscience allow you to go to their city on your own." Many of the other magisters voice their agreement, but Senna would not be deterred.

"Than I request that my visit to King's Landing to be treated as a political envoy, to discuss new trade agreements with the Iron Throne," Senna declared.

Varghan smirked as he saw through her plan. Myr was a trade city. It was their main source of income and they were quite proud of that. Getting new treaties with the kingdom in the west could prove very profitable. Not to mention that the envoy would include a magister to lead these talks and no less than a hundred men as an honor guard and several ships to protect the envoy.

"This does not change the fact that we cannot trust the Targaryens with your safety," Cossomo insisted.

"I am very well able to assure my own safety, but if it eases your worry, I will put my life in the hands of a guard of your choosing. But my point stands, I will travel to King's Landing and meet this prince they want me to marry." And she left no room for arguing. Lady Senna Peverell had spoken and they knew that she would go, no matter what they would say. She was actually quite amiable and considerate when she proposed the envoy and the guard.

Varghan looked around and he could see that most of his contemporaries were far from happy. But at the very least one of them would be with her, to keep an eye on Myr's precious jewel. In the end, a shaky majority agreed to her proposal, much to her obvious delight.

"Honored magisters, I thank you," she inclined her head in respect before she turned around and left as quickly as she had appeared.

"This child plays with us as if we are nothing but puppets in her hands," Cossomo stated, quite amused. "You better go and see to it that she actually does wait for the conclave to decide on who to send as the envoy," he told Varghan, who nodded in return.

Senna seemed quite eager to leave all of a sudden. And he had learned long ago that an eager Senna was often a careless Senna. A lady like her should never be unattended when she is careless. So he did not argue. He left and followed her back to her estate.

* * *

Steffon had waited for three days after his meeting the mysterious lady, but every day passed without word from her or any of her servants. He was about to give up hope and prepare for his trip back to Westeros when a young boy asked to see him.

The boy was a slave, but one who was well dressed and fed. Had it not been for the collar and the brands, he might just as well have been from a smaller merchant family. But he had only seen a few slaves that had been cared for this well. Almost all of them work for Lady Senna in her estate.

Much to Steffon's relief, the boy carried a sealed letter addressed to him. The wax seal showed the sigils he had seen on the banners of Lady Senna, the strange birds that the magister had called a phoenix.

The letter itself turned out to be an invitation to dinner with the lady in the evening, but it said little else. He couldn't be sure what she had decided, but it was something. He would find out what she would do, he had no doubt about that.

So when the sun had begun to set, he was once more at the gate of her estate, accompanied only by his wife. The guards let them pass without much fuss and soon enough they were greeted by the head slave of the lady.

He lead the guests to a lavishly decorated dining room, where a long table was already aching under the many different drinks, fruits and other foods that had been prepared. Several other people were already present as well, among them Magister Varghan, who spoke quietly with an old man, who was dressed in a similar fashion. If Steffon would have had to guess, he would have said that the old man was a magister as well.

The last to arrive was the lady herself, but her entrance was no less grand than the last time. Clad in a dark dress, her hair braided in intricate patterns, she exuded a feeling of royalty that Steffon had only ever seen from those of the highest birth.

"Lord Baratheon, I am glad that you have accepted my invitation. I had feared that my long hesitation might have caused you to leave," Senna said, as she approached the lord of the Stormlands.

"I wouldn't have dreamed of it, Lady Senna. It is a privilege to be in your presence once more," Steffon replied cordially.

"Let me introduce you to my other guests. This man is Magister Cossomo Mercor, our honored elder in the conclave," she motioned towards the old man Varghan had been talking to and the man nodded in greeting. "You have already met Magister Varghan, of course."

"It is a pleasure to met you again," Steffon greeted.

"Of that I'm sure, Lord Baratheon," Varghan replied snidely, though he obviously stopped from showing his dislike so openly when the lady sent him a veiled glare.

"Let's move on to my other guests," she said quickly, as she guided Steffon's attention towards the two younger guests, "These are Mero and Talea, firstborn son and daughter of Magister Varghan."

Steffon watched these younger guests closely. Especially the boy and how he would often sneak glances at Senna, whenever she wasn't looking. Some sort of childhood crush? She seemed rather oblivious to it, so he wouldn't worry about any possible trouble in the future.

"Now let us eat and drink and be merry. After that we can discuss what you have really come for," Senna announced, as she gestured towards the table, where the servants had begun to serve the food.

So they spent the next few hours feasting on the exotic food that the lady had her servants prepare and made polite small talk about Myr and the Seven Kingdoms. There was some probing from the magister's children and some rather blunt questions from Varghan himself, though the real danger at the table was the oldest guest. His questions seemed simple enough, but they followed a pattern that Steffon recognized almost too late.

Only once everyone was satisfied, the conversation finally turned towards the topic that interested Steffon the most. He could see that even his wife was anticipating the final choice of the lady. The success of their mission now rested in the hands of this girl and though they would return to Westeros no matter the outcome here, they both dreaded King Aerys reaction, should they fail their task.

"We should stop the idle small talk and get to the point of this meeting," Senna said, as she saw that all her guests were well fed and content. Her own nervousness was rising, as she knew that her next words would without a doubt change the lives of many people… for better or worse, no one would be able to tell for years to come.

"So you have considered our offer," Steffon asked.

Senna nodded, "I have. At this moment, I cannot in good conscience agree to marry this Rhaegar Targaryen."

Steffon's shoulders slumped in disappointment, as he heard this. So the answer was no and their search for a wife had failed. He looked at the magisters that sat at the table, both to Senna's left and right. It was more than likely that these men had pressured her to decline. Of course, they wouldn't allow the precious Jewel of Myr to leave.

"I understand..."

"No, you do not," Senna interrupted, with a light laugh, "I said that I cannot agree to marry him at this moment because I won't be bound to a man that I don't even know. Which is why I will travel to King's Landing to meet this prince of yours. Should he be worthy, I will agree, otherwise, I will return to Myr."

This didn't sound too bad, Steffon thought. She was willing to consider Rhaegar at the very least. Of course, the king would be displeased by this. A woman deciding whether she will marry a man or not, outside of Dorne this was not just uncommon, but even highly frowned upon. But once the king had seen this exceptional young woman, he would do anything to keep her, that much was assured.

"I understand and I would be happy to have you with us on our way back to Westeros," Steffon replied, a pleased look on his face.

But the lord of the Stormlands had to frown when Magister Varghan suddenly chuckled darkly. "You do not possibly expect us to send her alone with you. Foolish man, Lady Senna will be well protected and accompany an envoy of Myr that will negotiate new trade agreements with that king of yours."

Steffon's frown deepened. So those magisters took this whole jewel thing even further. Lady Senna was their bargaining chip for more beneficial agreements with the Iron Throne. How very cunning. But why was the lady only smiling at this, when he would have expected her to be outraged by this turn of events. The man's words more or less meant that she was just like the slaves, a commodity to be traded for wealth. Something did not add up here. But he could only hope that whatever they were planning, it wouldn't affect the Seven Kingdoms in a bad way.

"So you will leave Myr with the first flood tomorrow morning,"Varghan continued.

"And when does the lady intend to visit King's Landing?" Steffon asked, quite displeased with this bothersome magister.

"Whenever the lady wishes to do so!"

"Magister, please. We are not here to quarrel," Lady Senna finally interjected. Her voice was calm and collected, but Steffon could see the raging emotions in her eyes. The way she looked at him spoke of great worry, but it was soon enough replaced with determination. "I shall make preparations for my journey posthaste. It shouldn't take more than a week for me to follow you, which should give you enough time to prepare for my arrival."

"Thank you, Lady Senna. I can assure you that all of King's Landing will wait for your arrival with great anticipation," Steffon replied cordially. "I will personally see to it that everything will be prepared and that your time in the capital will be as enjoyable as possible."

"Good. Now that this is settled, let us continue with our little celebration here," Senna said jovially, as she raised her cup of wine, "A toast to the future, whatever it may bring!" And so they all drank, each one of them with different thoughts about the meaning of her words.

Steffon himself was just glad that this waiting game was over. He would return home, to see his sons… but first, he would have to go and see King Aerys. He knew that this whole task to find a bride had not been as easy as they had hoped. In fact, he had expected to fail and incur the king's wrath because of it. But now that he had actually succeeded, at least partially, he could return to the court with his head held high. If all went well, the Seven Kingdoms would soon have a new queen, one that might be just the kind of new blood that the royal family needs.


	2. A phoenix among dragons

Never before had Steffon been more at ease, when his ship sailed into the harbor of King's Landing. A few more weeks and he would see his sons again, his home and the people he had to leave behind for his cousin's foolish task. Little Renly had not even been a year old when he and Cassana had left… For a task he had, against all odds, fulfilled.

Or at least he thought that he had. He could only hope that Lady Senna would be true to her word and that the magisters wouldn't hatch some dastardly plan to keep her in their city. He had seen how possessive they were of her, so just about anything might still happen.

He would have to trust that the lady would come as she had promised. His own journey had been quicker than expected, thanks to favorable winds and, for once, no run-ins with some foolish pirates or other troublesome sea folks. So now he had a bit more than a week to prepare for her arrival.

But first, he would have to see the king. There was little doubt that Aerys had already been informed about his arrival, as word travels faster than the wind in this city. So there was no time to waste on his way up to the Red Keep, where Aerys holds court.

Cassana, his wife, remained on the ship, so she could arrange the transfer of their belongings to their usual quarters in the Red Keep whereas he took half a dozen of his men with him to face the king and report the good news he had. In a way, he was almost giddy to see his cousin's reaction.

He was greeted well enough, albeit with obvious surprise by the people inside the keep, as he passed through the long corridors that lead to the throne room. More than a few had gleefully hoped to see him return broken and shame-faced, after failing his liege's task. Oh, how he enjoyed seeing their sour faces and their futile attempts to fake happiness to see him again.

There was only one, who met him in the halls, who was genuinely happy to see him again. Tywin Lannister, the lord of the Casterly Rock, who had been his friends for many years now. As Hand of the King he was most of his time in the Red Keep and now he had come to greet him. And though Tywin had never shown him anything resembling a smile in his life, there was a certain degree of fondness in his eyes. The fondness that he had once even held for the king, before their friendship had been crushed by pride, greed, and envy.

"Tywin, it is good to see you again. How has the life at court treated you in my absence?" Steffon said as he laid one of his heavy hand's on his friend's shoulder.

The Hand of the King looked at his hand with a raised eyebrow but said nothing. Steffon was sure that in secret Tywin had been relieved that he had not hugged him in front of the servants and courtiers. His reputation would not have allowed such indignity, friends or not.

"Not much has changed, Steffon. The Reachmen are still as pompous as ever, the Dornishmen despise us in secret and those wildlings in the North care little for what happens south of the Neck. And the rest... our lands and the Vale keep the realm together to the best of our abilities," Tywin replied stoically.

"And the king?"

"King Aerys… is rather ill-tempered as of late. You couldn't have chosen a worse time to return from the fool's errand he has sent you on," Tywin replied with a warning note.

But Steffon's face nearly split from the impish grin he now sported, as he looked at Tywin. The lord of the Westerlands frowned in suspicion at this sight.

"I have not failed, Tywin. Not yet at least," Steffon announced.

"You have not?" Carefully hidden surprise colored his voice. Only those who really knew him would be able to pick it up, but Steffon had clearly heard him. In a way he felt slightly bad, seeing as this would put a final end to Tywin's aspiration to make his daughter queen, but Steffon was sure that it was better for all of them in the long run.

"No. I have found the perfect bride for Prince Rhaegar," this announcement silenced just about everyone else in the hall. All eyes were now focused on Steffon, as he had just spilled the juiciest piece of gossip they had heard in a long time.

"And where is the lucky bride to be?"

"Thing is, she has yet to agree to the match. She will come to King's Landing to meet the prince before she makes a decision," Steffon told him in a hushed voice after he had leaned closer.

"Good luck explaining that to the king. But come now, he must be getting impatient," Tywin said before he leads Steffon towards the large doors of the throne room.

Steffon almost cringed, when he saw his cousin on the throne. Aerys looked haggard and bedraggled. His eyes darted around as if he expected an attack. It was worrying to see how much the king had changed in his absence. He could only hope that Lady Senna's arrival would lift his spirit.

"So you have returned. Empty handed," the king spoke with a raspy voice.

The entire court was quiet, as Steffon approached the throne and bowed before his king. Of course, the people wanted to witness how the king would reproach one of his most powerful lords for failing the 'simple' task he had been given. Spurious bastards, the whole lot of them.

"Your majesty, I have returned from my tour of the Free Cities and I bring you a great many treaties and treasures from the eastern continent," Steffon began.

"And the original task I've given you, Lord Baratheon?"

"I had traveled nearly all of the Free Cities, in search of a befitting wife for your son, our beloved future king, Prince Rhaegar. I had nearly given up hope until I had visited the city of Myr as my last stop before returning home," Steffon began to explain, but his cousin's patience waned quickly.

"Get to the point or get out. I've got no patience for flimsy excuses," Aerys growled.

Chuckles could be heard from the crowd, but Steffon would not be deterred by them. They would choke on their own spit soon enough. It would be a most vicious satisfaction. But he was glad that he had left Cassana on the ship. She was too soft to endure this kind of dishonorable conduct from fellow lords and ladies.

"I have succeeded. I have found a lady that would be a most formidable match for Prince Rhaegar. She is the last of an old and revered family in Myr and an heiress of old Valyria," Steffon announced loudly, so even the last naysayer in the room would hear him.

"You have?" there was a glint in the king's eyes that had been absent before and he even sat up a little straighter. "Where is the bride you've found?"

But now there was the hardest part, "Your majesty, she will arrive in a weeks time, with an entourage from Myr… alas, she has yet to agree to the marriage. She wishes to meet Prince Rhaegar before she makes this decision."

Now the king's mood change once more. Rage spread on his face, as he stood up from his throne and thundered, "Who dares to defy me? What wench dares to make such outrageous demands?"

"Lady Senna Peverell, the so-called Jewel of Myr," Steffon replied.

To everyone's surprise, Aerys' rage suddenly stopped and a look of disbelief spread on his face, "Peverell," he repeated hoarsely.

"Yes, your majesty, Lady Senna Peverell," Steffon said once more.

The king fell back onto his throne, but jerked away, when he cut his hand on one of the many blades. His reaction was most odd and only few in the room could hope to understand why the king acted this way. The murmurs grew even louder, when the king suddenly left the throne room, not speaking another word. All he left was a room filled with confused people and a thin trail of blood on the polished stone floor.

But before Steffon could even comprehend all that had happened, Queen Rhaella was already by his side, a grim look on her face.

"I cannot fault you for this, Steffon, but you have uttered a name that has caused a lot of discontent within the Targaryen family in the past. But the last Peverell… in the end the last of them had to be a girl. The irony is damning," the queen said, "You might have just restarted a quarrel that has existed since the days of old Valyria. Or this lady might end it once and for all. Gods help us should it be the former."

* * *

 

She enjoyed the breeze of the sea and the smell of the fresh air, as she stood on the deck of her ship. The winds were fortunate and except for a small altercation with a foolish pirate ship from Tyrosh, little had obstructed her way to King's Landing.

Yet with every day they got closer, she grew more anxious. She was literally going right into the dragon's den, something that none of her ancestors had dared since the day Aegon Targaryen had begun his conquest. She knew that she was not the weak little girl these people would expect and that, if need be, she would have the means to return to Myr in a heartbeat. But those around her did not have that option.

Her faithful servants. Her friends. Magister Varghan and his son and daughter. And the hundred and fifty strong men the conclave had sent as her personal guard. Too many, she had said, but the conclave wouldn't budge. Deep down she knew that these men had more than her wishes in mind. Their leaders likely had the order to ensure her return, should the match fall through. With or without her consent.

But that wouldn't be her worry for now. She had little doubt that the marriage with Rhaegar Targaryen would happen. Now she had to dictate the terms for that or else she would end up as little more than a slave to the Targaryens. She is a Peverell and Peverells are no one's slave.

An island appeared on one side of the ship, the continent could be seen in the distance of the other.

"That is the island of Dragonstone. The land ruled by Prince Rhaegar Targaryen himself," Mero, the magister's son, said as he joined her. "With luck, he might be there, though I wouldn't count on it. The king will insist on seeing you first, so his son will be waiting in the capital, as agreed with Lord Steffon."

"Such a barren place, how could anyone ever live on that rock?" Senna wondered as she watched the dark cliffs of Dragonstone. "But it has to be a good place to raise a dragon or two."

"True. But there are no dragons left," Mero replied.

"All are dead, but for how much longer, I wonder?" If the prophecy was to be believed, they would need any help they can get. But a dragon in Targaryen hands… her ancestors certainly saw the need to prevent them from finding any more eggs after the Dance of Dragons.

"Are you feeling alright?" Mero asked, a worried look on his face. "Maybe you should get some rest. A day more and we will be able to see King's Landing. I will call for Talea to keep your company."

"It is alright, Mero. Let your sister rest. We all know how much traveling on sea upsets her stomach," Senna replied with a smile. The haughty daughter of Magister Varghan, humbled by her squeamish nature. The other young ladies in Myr would never let her live this down.

But Mero was right, she should retire as well. So she left for her cabin. Once there, she was alone with her thoughts, only accompanied by her servants, whom she had brought along. Lanna and Alia had served her for years now. Slaves her father had bought when they were little more than infants, so his daughter would have servants around her own age. He didn't want her to feel intimidated by the older slaves. Kindness meant for one child, utter cruelty for the rest.

"Milady, is there anything you need?" Alia asks, as soon as she sees Senna, "Something to drink or food perhaps?"

"No, Alia, thank you," Senna replied tiredly. But as she saw her servant, she remembered something that she had been planning to do, but put off until they were gone from Myr. "But come here. You, too, Lanna."

Both girls complied immediately, no worry about what their lady might do to them. Even when Senna pulled the small knife that she was hiding in the long sleeve of her dress, they did not even flinch. But both gasped in surprise when Senna put the knife to their throats… and cut their collars.

"Milady," Alia protested weakly, as he collar fell to the ground.

"I am keeping a promise I gave you two when you first began to serve me. When we reach King's Landing, you will disembark from this ship as free women. Whether you do it to serve me or to live a life of your own choosing, that is up to you. Just know that whatever you choose, I will see to it that you will have no worries." Senna told them honestly.

She was glad that she had managed to dissuade her father from having the girls branded as slaves. She remembered how she had thrown a fit back then. A girl of barely four years, claiming that the sight of slave brands on the servants' faces scares her. Her father had conceded and allowed them to remain unmarred… only months later he had been dead. But now his indulgence would allow her servants a better life.

"Milady, we could never abandon you. We are bound to your service," Alia replied, looking quite shocked. Lanna beside her nodded quite emphatically.

"You are not bound. Not any longer," Senna insisted.

"Regardless, we will not abandon you," Lanna said, to which Alia agreed.

Moved by their devotion, Senna hugged them both. They had been slaves for so long, but even now, after they had been freed, their loyalty was just as firm as before. And now, it was not enforced by a collar around their neck and the promise of death for disobedience.

A day later, the small fleet of myrish ships arrived at the harbor of the capital. And what a welcome they got. The news of the Jewel of Myr coming to King's Landing had spread like a wildfire and the wildest tales had been spun among the common folk. No one knew who had spread the news Lord Steffon had brought to the court, neither did they know how the people had heard about the love the commoners in Myr had for their lady, but legions of the downtrodden and poor had gathered in the hope to see the lady that might one day be their queen. The flimsy hope that she might raise them from the dirt shining in their eyes.

Half of the Gold Cloaks, the city guard of King's Landing, were busy keeping the people away from the ships, as the first of the myrish guards disembarked to ensure the safety of their lady and the magister.

It was Lord Steffon, who had once more come to greet the Lady Peverell, this time, accompanied by two members of the Kingsguard, Ser Barristan and Ser Oswell, who were among the most eager to see what wondrous woman the Lord of the Stormlands had found.

And they were looking quite stunned when they saw the lady disembark from the ship. Dressed like a queen, with this otherworldly air of noblesse and power, she looked every part the jewel Lord Steffon had described her to be. She was young but looked more lovely than any of the noble ladies they had seen so far. Though they wondered, why was she walking with an ornate golden staff, which was nearly as tall as she? It did not seem to be a crutch, nor appeared it to be a fancy walking stick. From the way she handled it, it was obvious that it had a deeper meaning. Treasured akin to a warrior's respect for his ancestral blade.

"Lady Senna, it is a privilege to meet you once again and it is my honor to welcome you to King's Landing, the finest city in the Seven Kingdoms," Steffon went ahead to greet her. They could see how relieved he was that the lady had kept her word and come, especially after the king had become rather obsessed with her.

To bind the last Peverell to his house. To achieve this final victory after all these years. They had no idea what the king had meant by that, but it was obvious that except for the queen, none knew what history the Targaryens and Peverells must have had. Had she not come, King Aerys would have likely done his utmost to storm Myr and drag her out to bring her here.

The cautious look in her eyes, when she looked towards the Red Keep, betrayed her true thoughts. She obviously knew what danger she was facing here. His respect for her only grew, as he realized how bravely she had come here, to explore the possibilities of a future for the last heirs of Valyria.

"Lord Steffon, it pleases me to see you well," Senna replied cordially, as her gaze wandered around.

She could see the countless people, all those poor and forgotten souls, that feed the endless greed of their lords. It was obvious that she would have her work cut out for her, should she decide to stay.

"Milady, these are Ser Barristan Selmy and Ser Oswell Whent, members of the Kingsguard, sent here by his majesty to ensure that you will arrive at the Red Keep safe and sound," Steffon introduced the two knights, who stood there all prim and proper, waiting for her to show them any attention.

"I will have to thank his majesty for his worry for my wellbeing. If my safety is their concern, your knights may coordinate with Mero, who is acting as the captain of my personal guard at the moment," she said, as she motioned towards the young man who stood a few feet to her right. Steffon remembered him from the dinner he had been invited to.

"Shall we move on to the keep now, Lady Senna?" Steffon asked.

Seeing as there was nothing to be done at the harbor, Senna agreed readily, despite her growing unease. She wouldn't fear, she wouldn't tremble. Despite everything, she is a Peverell and a Peverell does not cower.

So she allowed the lord to lead her towards an ornate palanquin, which would bring her right to the steps of the Red Keep, where she would finally present herself to the court. She only rued that she saw so little of the city on their way since the guards of the magister flanked her palanquin closely enough to hide her from everyone's view.

But at the keep, she once more faces the eyes of countless people. Only this time it was not the poor and unfortunate souls, but the nobles, servants, and sycophants that skulk around at court, hoping for the one miraculous event that will earn them power and a fortune. Senna had seen their kind day by day, always close to the magisters. Like leeches.

The keep, though, just seeing it up close was indeed awe inspiring. It was a monument to the power and superiority complex of the Targaryen dynasty. Not that her own family had been any better in that regard.

When she finally entered the throne room itself, she nearly lost control of her carefully maintained mask of indifference, as she saw the skulls. The skulls of those dragons, who had won the Targaryens their realm. A realm that they had conquered not because it belonged to them, but because they could.

She had nearly missed the gigantic monstrosity they call a throne on the far side of the room. But when a man announced her arrival with a booming voice, she could tear her gaze away from the skulls and back to the situation she was in. So she approached the throne, head held high.

The haggard creature on it watched her with a vicious look, that seemed rather like that of a beast that had finally cornered its prey after a tiring hunt. If this was really the king, Senna did not even wish to imagine what his son might look like.

King Aerys on the other side, felt giddy like a child on a sugar rush, as he finally saw the woman his cousin had found in Myr. The last Peverell and now she would ensure the survival of House Targaryen. The gods had a sense of humor that suited him well. And what a woman she was. Young and firm, very pleasing to the eye. A true Valyrian woman. And dressed in that white dress, with its golden ornament and the diadem in her silvery blond hair, she already looked fit to be a queen.

"And so millennia of defiance come to an end," the king said, as he grinned wildly.

Senna frowned, as she understands perfectly what he was alluding to. Her ancestors are surely rolling in their graves right now. To have the last of their dynasty standing before the Targaryens, ready to forsake her name and end their legacy… had there been any other choice in this, she would have never even come here.

"All for the sake of the greater good," Death cackled. He often began quoting Dumbledore just to annoy the hell out of her. She ignored him.

"Your majesty, surely you know why I am here. Lord Baratheon had done a wonderful job at convincing me to come, but it is not to entertain you. Neither am I to be an ornament to decorate your hall. I wish to meet your son? Where is Prince Rhaegar?"

The entire hall fell silent, stunned by the audacity of the foreign lady. None would ever dare to speak to the king like that. Unless they had a death wish that is. But there was an obvious air of conflict between her and King Aerys. And that even though the lady had never before seen the lands west of the Narrow Sea.

The king, however, only cackled darkly. There was a glint in his eyes that showed even greater madness than ever before, "All in due time, girl. For now, you will get settled here." And just by the way, he said this, it was obvious that he meant for her to stay permanently. He even left without saying another word, still cackling.

And so the first days of the rest of her life in the dragon's nest began for Senna. Tedious meetings with numerous nobles, who wished to gain her favor, attending the small wars that were the trade negotiations between Magister Varghan and the king's Master of Coin and endless hours of exploring the keep. Despite her insistence, even her own guards had tried to dissuade her from visiting the city, at least until the great commotion concerning her had died down a little. She had even joined the queen and her ladies once or twice, but she could feel the constant wariness of the woman whenever she was around. It would likely take some time for Queen Rhaella to be able to accept a Peverell in her home, not that Senna could fault her.

And wherever she went, Senna was also sure that the king's eyes were following her, as if she was a rare animal to be gawked at by pesky children...

* * *

 

A week after her arrival, when the negotiations had been concluded, she was about to leave with the myrish delegation. She had not seen the prince once in those seven days and no one could tell her where he was or when he would arrive. The only solace in all this was, that the king was even more angered by this than her. It was obvious that Rhaegar's absence was not planned.

But none the less, she had resolved that this would be her last day waiting. She would return to Myr, should Rhaegar Targaryen not appear and there was nothing King Aerys could do to prevent it. Prophecy or not, she had no patience for such foolish games. If they still wished for the match to happen, Rhaegar would have to come her.

She would miss the gardens of the Red Keep, though. Such a serene place, with countless little gazebos and terraces, where one could hide away from the busy life at court. Just what she was doing at that moment. She enjoyed the view of the ocean and the gentle sound of the waves from her small hiding spot. She had even managed to escape her own guards and they wouldn't be able to find her here.

Fawkes had appeared again and he sang her a tranquil tune, that soothed her mind. So she sat there, a gentle smile on her face and her eyes closed as she listened to fiery friend's song. At least until a rustling in the bushes around her betrayed the location of a spy.

Senna was quickly on her feet, her staff in hands, ready to defend herself, should there be the need for it. Oddly enough Fawkes had remained, still singing his song, as if he had no care in the world. Truly odd, considering that he never shows himself to people she was unfamiliar with. Even Magister Varghan had only seen the bird twice in his life and even then only briefly.

But then she saw that there was, in fact, no need to be alarmed. The intruder had not been a spy. No, it had not even been some courtier who had gotten lost in the gardens. It was a little boy. He stumbled through the bushes and looked at her with wide eyes. Wide purple eyes.

With some surprise, she realized that this was no ordinary toddler but in fact Prince Viserys, the king's youngest son. But she wondered why he was here… and why a two-year-old was alone in the gardens to begin with.

"Hello there, little one," Senna greeted the boy gently, as she knelt down to be closer to his level.

The prince still looked at her wide-eyed, until he seemed to recognize her. It looked too cute when he tried to stand even taller as if he wanted to impress her. But the minds of children a fickle and soon enough his attention was solely focused on Fawkes, who still trilled his song.

"Pretty birdie..." the prince said, as he wobbled over to Fawkes and tried to reach him. But the two-year-old was too small to reach Fawkes, who sat high up on the balustrade. He looked at her and pointed at Fawkes, "Up! Up!" he said in the most commanding voice he could muster.

Senna actually laughed. The prince was so adorable. She wondered how a beast like Aerys could actually father such an innocent little boy. Maybe he was more his mother's son than his father's spawn. She certainly hoped so. But for now, she wouldn't ponder such things. Instead, she complied with Viserys' wish and picked him up. She put her staff away and sat the prince on her lap, close enough to Fawkes to allow him to pet the bird.

The phoenix enjoyed the ministrations immensely and his music soon became more lively and happy, much to the toddler's joy.

"Fawkes seems to like young, little prince," Senna said, as Fawkes got closer, so the child could pet him even more. It was rare to see Fawkes act like this, but Senna had to admit that she knew little about what the phoenix does whenever he is not with her, which is just about the majority of the time. Maybe he has always had a fondness for little children and likes to sing for them. He started singing for her when she had been a newborn babe after all.

"Am not little. I am dragon!" Viserys insisted with a pout.

Senna laughed again. "And what a mighty dragon. I hope that I won't have to fear you."

"Never! Am good dragon. I protect momma and everyone," Viserys replied quickly.

"Then I can feel safe now," Senna told him as she hugged the little boy a bit closer. He was just so adorable, she couldn't help herself.

"Someone would like to have little dragons of her own," Death decided to mock her in that very moment. But she couldn't care less for his opinion.

But here, alone with the prince, she got a little more daring than usual. No one would see it, should she use her magic for a brief moment. And it would certainly entertain the little boy.

"Say, Viserys, would you like to see a magic trick?"

The boy focused on her and quickly nodded, an eager look in his eyes. "Yes! Show me! Show me!"

"Alright," she took her staff with one hand and muttered a spell as she tapped one of the pebbles on the ground. The stone quickly transfigured into the living form of a butterfly and soared into the sky, past the cheering boy on Senna's lap.

"Again! Again!" he ordered and Senna complied. Various transfigurations later the boy seemed satisfied and tired. Not much more was needed and he was dozing gently, as he leaned against her bosom with a happy smile on his face.

* * *

 

When Rhaegar Targaryen returned to the capital, he had expected many things. To see the city in such commotion and the whispers of a foreign queen visiting their king came as quite the surprise. Whoever his father was meeting with, her name was known far and wide in the city as it seemed. His surprise only grew, once he had found his way to the Red Keep, where he had been accosted by his mother almost immediately.

She told him about what had transpired in his absence. To think that so much would change in the two short weeks he had been gone to visit the ruin of Summerhall. So Lord Baratheon had returned and he had indeed found a wife. One that his father considers being the greatest trophy at the end of a long war… how very odd.

"You should not dally any longer, Rhaegar. The lady is a kind woman, I can tell as much, but even her patience will reach its limits. She has yet to agree to marry you. Should she leave… I dare not imagine your father's wrath should that happen. In his growing madness he sees the last daughter of House Peverell as a godly sign of House Targaryen's' continued prosperity and success," Queen Rhaella told her son, as they walked along the paths of the gardens.

"To think that any woman would make demands in such a situation. All the noble ladies in the Seven Kingdoms would do anything for a chance to become queen," Rhaegar replied thoughtfully. He had heard about the Peverells. He had studied his family's history for long enough and the name had been mentioned, albeit briefly. But to actually deny the king, even as a foreigner… that takes guts.

"This woman is not so easily seduced, Rhaegar. Make no mistake, this marriage has to happen, so you better find your future bride and convince her," the queen insisted.

Rhaegar sighed deeply. This was certainly troublesome… Lord Steffon had outdone himself when he succeeded, but for him, this meant the end of a large part of his freedom. He was aware that he would have to take a wife soon and that it was expected of him to have children of his own sooner rather than later. House Targaryen was on the brink of collapse after the Tragedy at Summerhall and it fell to him rebuild his family's legacy from the ashes. But that did not mean that he was overly enthusiastic to marry a total stranger from halfway across the world just to please his father and his strange obsession with the girl.

"Find her," the queen said once more, with a look that allowed no objection, before she walked away.

Rhaegar was sure that he could hear Ser Arthur snicker behind his back. His friend and guard were most likely very amused by this turn of events.

"How wonderful. Now where is that woman?" Rhaegar asked himself.

"Well, there are enough rumors about her," Arthur stated.

"You are not helping, Arthur," Rhaegar complained tiredly.

The knight laughed again, "No. Then maybe it is not helping to know, that the lady prefers to take long walks in the gardens at this time of the day. And that she tends to escape her own guards for that, so you might get a chance to catch her alone."

"How do you even know that?"

"Ser Oswell gossips more than the old women in the kitchens," Arthur replied, visibly amused. "I've had the chance to catch up with him while you were talking to the queen."

This surprised Rhaegar. He had been so preoccupied with his own problem, that he had not realized that there had been another knight in attendance and that said knight had been Ser Oswell, who had been on guard duty for the queen.

"Shall we go and find your future bride?" Arthur pressed on. Rhaegar merely nodded, deep in thought.

The gardens were even grander than he remembered them. Or maybe it was just the first time that he was actually searching for someone in this place and now he realized its true scale. All they found were courtiers and guards, roaming the long paths. Arthur chuckled when he saw a group of myrish guards pass by, as they tried and failed to look inconspicuous. It was obvious that they were searching as well and that they were more than a little worried.

"What a mischievous streak this girl must possess. To escape her protectors and lead them on a wild goose chase," Arthur commented.

"She seems to like her privacy. Understandable. I often wish I could escape my ever vigilant guard as well," Rhaegar muttered.

"You wound me, your grace," Arthur said, as he sighed in mock dejection.

Rhaegar did not comment on his friend's acts, instead, he walked on, until they reached the part of the gardens that was the furthest away from the Red Keep. Close to the cliffs that allowed a breathtaking view of the Blackwater Bay. It was there, that they heard a faint sound.

"Do you hear that?" Rhaegar asked the knight beside him.

Arthur nodded. "Sounds like a bird, though I can't say I've heard any of the birds here make such a sound."

It was true, even Rhaegar had never heard a bird sing such a song. It sounded foreign… just like the lady he was searching for. The lead was flimsy at best, but it was better than no lead at all. So he followed the sound until he reached a terrace, from where he could see the sea. But it wasn't the ocean that caught his interest, but the sight a bit further down, on another terrace just above the cliff. There he could see the source of the sound.

"That is one big bird," Arthur commented.

"True, but look. That has to be the elusive lady," Rhaegar said, as he pointed at the other figure.

At the moment, he could only see her from behind as he back was turned towards him, but he had little doubt that this was, in fact, Lady Senna Peverell. The only other woman with such silvery blond hair was his mother and she was still at the keep, attending to her duties.

Then, however, the unexpected happened and the bird disappeared in a flash of fire, much to the surprise of the prince and his knight. They were shocked and Arthur was quick to draw his sword, to protect the prince if need be. The bird did not show up again. But the lady had been alerted to their presence.

Now he could see her face, as she stared up at him, daring him to approach her further. But he studied her appearance first. They had not over exaggerated when they had called this young woman a jewel. She looked indeed quite lovely and though there was something about her that seemed… odd, he couldn't figure out what it was. But those amethyst colored eyes of her showed defiance and not the lust and greed he had seen from the other young women at court.

"Say, is that Prince Viserys on her lap," Arthur asked.

Rhaegar broke the eye contact first and looked towards the small figure on her lap. And it indeed looked as if his younger brother was there with the foreign lady.

"Let's get down there, Arthur," Rhaegar commanded.

The knight followed wordlessly, obviously amused by this whole situation. He would likely tease his friend for years with this whole situation. The girl that defied the dragon prince, a story for the bards for sure.

When they reached the lower terrace, they found the lady still sitting there, the young prince sleeping on her lap with a content smile. It was an odd sight for sure. But it was also interesting to see.

"Keep your voices low, the boy has just fallen asleep," she told them.

This amused Arthur even more than the incredulous look on Rhaegar's face. It would seem that the Jewel of Myr had already tamed one dragon. And no one was more surprised by this turn of events than Rhaegar himself.

"Arthur, please return Viserys to his chambers. My mother must be worried sick," Rhaegar commanded without taking his eyes of the foreign lady.

Senna was equally staring at the prince, daring him to break eye contact first, even as she gently handed the young prince to the knight. The odd smile on her lips was enough proof that she actually enjoyed this strange battle of wills with Rhaegar and Arthur would have enjoyed watching her more. But he had his orders and Rhaegar likely wished to be alone with his bride to be.

Arthur looked at the lady once more, before he excused himself and took Prince Viserys away. So finally, Senna and Rhaegar remained alone, so they could talk.

"What was that bird?" Was the first question that Rhaegar uttered, much to Senna's amusement. They always ask about the bird, she thought.

On the outside, she adopted a lock of mock indignation, "What a way to greet a lady. In Myr the men who wish to court me have the decency to utter their name, lineage, wealth, power and the name of their great grandmother's first pet, before they ask me even one question."

This stumped Rhaegar slightly. Her tone was accusing and the gentle smile from before had vanished so quickly that he wondered whether it had merely been an illusion before. But he knew that she was playing a game with him. One that he was loath to loose.

"And here in the Seven Kingdoms, dangerous animals are kept in chains and not so close to little children," Rhaegar replied stoically.

Her smile returned, only, this time, it resembled a smirk that was mocking him even more. "Are you afraid, Prince Rhaegar? Afraid of a little bird."

"Only worried for the life of my little brother, when that bird can suddenly burst into flames."

"True enough. Your worry for your brother does you credit," Senna replied evenly. "But my phoenix shows himself rarely enough and even if he does, he would never harm anyone who does not mean me ill. Prince Viserys never had to fear Fawkes or me for the matter."

"And I do?"

"That depends," Senna said, as his gaze drifted towards the sea.

"Depends on what?" Rhaegarquite a skeptic, as he watched the lady before him. There was a fire in her, that most of the other ladies at court lacked. It was obvious that she was not some besotted little maiden. This was a woman who had been raised to rule.

"That depends on whether you wish to have me by your side as your queen or at your feet as your whore," Senna replied.

Her outspokenness was surprising for the prince. It was obvious that she would not shy away from telling him just what was going through her mind. Unexpected, but not unwelcome. He would actually appreciate someone else but Arthur to actually tell him the truth instead of convenient lies. But he wondered why his father seemed so obsessed with her. Maybe it was time to research his family's history more closely. He was sure that he had heard the name of her family before. But he just couldn't remember what importance the name Peverell had for his own house.

"Why are you really here, Lady Senna? It is bluntly obvious that you have no wish to marry me," Rhaegar told her just as directly as she spoke to him.

She pondered this question for a long while, not looking at him but at the sea again. Was there some longing for her home? Somehow he doubted that she had been forced by her own people to come here. From the few things he knew about her, it was obvious that she was not one to allow others to command her.

"Do you believe in fate, Prince Rhaegar? Do you believe that our lives are governed by the actions and words of our ancestors?"

"I'd rather hope that we decide our fate by ourselves," Rhaegar replied.

Senna smiled benignly at him, as she got up and took her golden staff, "We are but slaves to the whims of fate, Prince Rhaegar. But even slaves can rebel for a little," she said, as she walked away from him. "I'll await your attempts to make me yours. I hope they will be less creepy than your father's." And with that, she had disappeared behind some bushes. He heard slight cracking sound, as soon as she was gone from sight.

He followed her, seeing as he was not satisfied with ending their first conversation on this note. But as he got past those bushes she was gone. As if she had vanished into thin air. How very frustrating. However, she had done what none of the other young noblewomen had done. She had actually caught his interest. Senna Peverell… what kind of queen would she be? After this first meeting, he was almost eager to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this chapter has shown a bit about the relationship between House Targaryen and House Peverell. There is a backstory that will be explained further as the story progresses. For the moment let's just say that in the end the Peverells have obviously lost, though the last child of their blood is loath to admit it.
> 
> I know that some reviewers were annoyed by how forced Senna's decision to go to King's Landing seems. And you are right. It is forced. Her almost compulsive need to help others leaves her with little choice and after two lives dominated by prophecies, she knows that it is unwise to ignore them entirely.
> 
> And yes, Robert and the Starks will also appear sooner or later... well Robert likely sooner, seeing as Steffon still plays a big role in Senna's early days in King's Landing. Fun fact here, Robert is actually the same age as Senna. But no, Robert will not be Rhaegar's love rival. He was so besotted with Lyanna, I really don't want to take that away.


	3. Shadows of Summerhall

It had been a sunny day and not a single cloud could be seen, as Senna explored the city of King's Landing for the very first time. Originally she had planned to go on her own. Hidden under several layers of glamor spells, unrecognizable by the naked eye. To see the people she was supposed to rule, to see their needs and fears. But that plan ended quickly when Mero and Talea heard about it.

It had been unintentional, a slip of her tongue and the secret had been out. The Magister's children had been rather insistent that she should not go alone. Of course, they couldn't know about how she had intended to hide and they only acted in what they believed to be her best interest. However, ultimately they had ruined her plan. Ruined it with a dozen armed men and a knight of the Kingsguard.

As it was apparently impossible to keep secrets within the halls of the Red Keep, the king had heard about her plan even before she had fully dressed that morning and commanded his guard to send one of their numbers with the young lady. Only to keep her safe, of course...

It was Ser Barristan Selmy, one of the most famous members of the Kingsguard, who had volunteered and who was now walking by her side. He was quite charming and knowledgeable, much to her relief, so at the very least she got a proper guide to explain the history of the city. She would have to return to her original task at a later time.

"Shall we move on to the Dragonpit, milady?" Ser Barristan asked as they left the Great Sept.

Senna smiled wily, as she answered, "The further away from here the better. I fear I've made a rather bad first impression on the High Septon."

Not that she would have had it any other way. Myr was not caught up in the suffocating grip of a religion that demands absolute faith. No, in Myr all religions are seen equally and most even have shrines and temples. But the magisters had always valued the ability to make decisions without bothering about religious authorities and their petty concerns first.

When she had expressed her own religious beliefs or rather the lack thereof, the old Septon had been mortified and began a long and arduous sermon in an attempt to convert her. She had laughed at him. Not because she did not believe in gods. In fact, she had been the daughter of a goddess in her previous life, but the ridiculous attempts of the man were just too amusing to keep up her stoic mask.

Well, maybe the prince will have to find a different place for the wedding, now that she was likely banned from returning to the Great Sept anytime soon. Not that it bothered her all that much.

Ser Barristan had remained impassive, not taking sides, despite his personal beliefs. Instead, he continued on as if nothing had happened, ever the epitome of the faithful knight and protector he was supposed to be.

"The Dragonpit is one of the most interesting structures in the city. Though it has been abandoned since the last of the dragons have died and has since fallen into disrepair, it is still awe-inspiring," the knight continued.

"It is a constant reminder of power lost," Senna heard Mero mutter behind her.

But she did not answer him, instead, her gaze wandered elsewhere, "Say, Ser Barristan, what is that rundown place at the feet of the Dragonpit?"

The knight followed her gaze and adopted a look of surprise and caution, as he realized what she meant, "That, milady, is Flea Bottom, the poorest part of the city where crime and diseases run rampant. It is not a place suited for a lady such as yourself. Would you rather see..."

"I wish to go there. If there is a chance that I will be their queen one day, I need to see all my people," Senna declared evenly.

Ser Barristan seemed torn, as he looked at the place the lady wanted to see. Protecting her there would be a momentous task, even with her personal guard. And should anything happen to her, King Aerys would likely have him executed. Though it had only been rumors so far, he had heard that the king had declared a fondness of public burnings…

"Relax, Ser, Lady Senna will not come to harm. No one would ever get the idea to hurt her," Mero told the knight, followed by an amused chuckle.

"I wish I had your trust in the people of this city, boy," Ser Barristan replied with a sigh. But it was obvious that he had already given up on convincing her to go elsewhere. Instead, he leads her towards the city's slums, his hand always on the hilt of his sword, ready to strike at a moments notice.

Senna's face was marred by a deep frown, as she saw more and more of Flea Bottom. It was literally the source of every foul smell in the city and beyond, with filth piling up on the street and even corpses appearing in some darker alleys, rotting freely in the midday sun.

The people were all haggard and ill, barely surviving in a city that had so much wealth to offer, that they had covered statutes and building with golden ornaments. She had expected to see a plethora of bad things in this city. If only half the things her ancestors had said about the Targaryens had been true, she would have expected all kind of trouble… but not this.

"How can you feast in your halls, when your own people starve in the streets?"

"Winter is coming, milady. Food has become more and more expensive and scant a noble is willing to invest the coin needed to feed these people… not when Winter is at our doorstep and no one can tell for how long it might last," Ser Barristan explained. He wasn't a bad man, far from it. And though it was clear that he agreed with the nobles decision, it was obviously not out of contempt or malice. Senna, however, saw it as a cruel sacrifice of those less fortunate.

"So many lives wasted…" Senna muttered in reply.

This wouldn't have happened in Myr. Even the slaves were fed better than these free people here in King's Landing. All were put to work, slave and free alike and all had at the very least the coin to give their families the food they need to survive. Here the people were treated as less than the filth on the streets. Such utter misery was hard to reconcile with her memories of past lives. In this world, she had more than once realized what lives of abundance she had led before.

"People die everywhere, Senna," Death whispered, "It doesn't matter if they starve on the streets or whether they are torn apart by sword and ax on the battlefield. In the end, they are all mine."

Just like she was. But unlike those poor souls here, she was bound to Death and as such unable to pass on. Her next great adventure was always a breath away from the end of the previous.

"I cannot allow this to continue," Senna declared.

"But there is nothing you can do. Not even you can provide food that does not exist, Senna," Mero interjected harshly. "So what will you do? Give them shiny coins to buy something that does not exist for them? They will only kill each other to get more coins, so they might have enough to afford the dirt that not even the dogs would feed off."

"Of course, you would say that. You've grown up with a golden spoon so far up your ass, that you don't even know the meaning of the word misery," Senna replied.

"And so have you, Senna. Don't forget, your family is far richer than mine. And much darker in nature," Mero replied with a scoff.

Ser Barristan watched in silence, as Lady Senna's guard captain spoke to her in such a callous manner. He had been informed, of course, that this young man was a close friend of the lady. Lord Steffon had even mentioned the possibility of an unrequited longing. But to see them talk like this… the king would definitely wish to hear about this.

"There… there is nothing we can do at the moment. We should return to the keep, Ser Barristan," Senna replied sadly. She allowed herself another brief look at the people around her. Those forgotten souls. She would change their lives for the better.

* * *

Lord Tywin Lannister, Hand of King Aerys Targaryen, Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of he West, was by no means a fool. In his mind, he had formed plans and schemes to adapt to nigh on every possible court intrigue. Yet despite all the planning, all the scheming and bribing, there was one thing had not planned for. One event that had been so very unlikely, that he had not considered it worthy of his attention.

Needless to say that this very event had come to pass, thanks to a man Tywin openly, albeit often begrudgingly, calls his friend. Steffon Baratheon, the Lord of Storm's End. The very man who had succeeded where no one would have expected him to. To find a fitting bride for the prince, that even the king approves of… unbelievable.

And now this very man, who had unwittingly ruined more than one of his plans, sat right across of Tywin, in one of the comfortable chairs in the Hand of the King's office. Why? The Seven alone would be able to answer that.

"Say, Tywin, how long do you reckon it will take the prince to convince Lady Senna," Steffon asked, as he began fussing with the straps of his boots, much to his friend's annoyance.

Tywin sighed, as he put down the quill he had used to finish his latest report for the king. He folded his hand before him, his elbows resting on the table, as he scrutinized Steffon for some long moments.

"Why are you still here, Steffon. I've heard that your wife has left for Storm's End not a day after Lady Senna's arrival. Shouldn't you be with your sons?"

"Like you are with yours?" Steffon shot back with a smirk. "And quit stalling."

"Jaime is still serving Lord Crakehall as his squire and will do so until he has proven himself worthy of knighthood and able to rule Casterly Rock in my absence," Tywin replied calmly.

Steffon smirked, as he had expected this answer. It was so very Tywin to say it like this. He chuckled as he tried to remember a day his friend wasn't all business.

"Robert is currently at Storm's End, but he will soon return to the Eyrie, to learn from Lord Arryn all he needs to know. He's happy there and even befriended one of those Starks. Eddard, I believe. The second born."

That was a rather interesting piece of information, one that Tywin would remember to write down later. A connection between the Storm Lands and the North, a cunning power play, albeit a dangerous one, considering the king's growing paranoia.

"And I've even considered offering for Lord Starks daughter. A more formal alliance with the North would be quite beneficial and Robert apparently met her once and is quite taken with her," Steffon added before he laughed again. Robert mooning over a maiden, what an utterly ridiculous thing to imagine.

He had considered calling Robert to King's Landing in the hope that he would somehow manage to befriend Lady Senna and in return gain his family more influence at court. It was obvious from what they had seen so far, that she would be a queen to remember. Not like her many feeble and weak predecessors. Her voice would carry weight as a queen… if she agrees to marry Rhaegar, that is. And as long as this is not decided, Robert would remain with Jon Arryn.

"So, the lady..." Steffon prodded again.

"What about the lady?" Tywin asked, his face adopting a dubious look.

"She's quite something, isn't she. Only few would dare to deny the king and the crown prince," Steffon said.

It was obvious that Tywin's thoughts of her were less favorable, as the man frowned. "She is… unorthodox. She obviously lacks the education and proper upbringing of a true Westerosi noble lady," he said, "But at the very least she is not yet bound by any of those meddling factions here at court. Whether or not she will be a good queen, however… only time will tell."

"You've brought your daughter here, haven't you? Why not introduce her to Lady Senna?"

"I'd rather not. At least not until the lady's position at court is clear," not to mention that Cersei still entertained the idea that she might become queen. That chance was gone, now that the king was so obsessed with the Peverell girl. Unless Lady Senna dies, no other girl would ever be considered for Prince Rhaegar. And Prince Viserys was unfortunately too young for Cersei, so would likely not marry into the royal family. She would not be happy about that.

* * *

As Senna returned to the Red Keep, she almost immediately ditched her guards and Ser Barristan, to get some time to think. Once more the gardens would have to calm her mind, as they had done before. The misery in the city had shocked her, but it had also opened her eyes to what needs to be done.

"They are not your focus, Senna," Death whispered once more, "the looming darkness should be your concern. And the dragon prince you will need..."

"Get out of my head," she muttered furiously, "I know my purpose in this world, thank you very much."

"Those people in Flea Bottom serve no purpose, Senna. They have no strength, they have no influence. They have no magic," Death replied icily.

"I..." she stopped, as she heard something.

A song. But not one of those beautiful melodies Fawkes would sing her, but one of a different kind of beauty. A melancholic melody and the text to match. She had not been aware that any of the bards in the keep would ever visit the garden for their performances. Nor had she heard a song of such quality from any of them.

She slowly approached the source of the song, a man sitting in the shadow of a gazebo, a knight standing not far from him. A few moments passed, before she even registered, that the man was in fact not just some bard, but Prince Rhaegar, who sang this song. With his harp and the sadness of the song, he created such melancholy, that Senna even thought her heart would shatter, should she listen further.

He sang of Summerhall and promises lost to the fire. A song of suffering and a destiny that had been denied to those who had been fortunate… or unfortunate enough to survive and endure…

And as she listened, the song brought forth memories of her own losses and mourning. Both in this life and the past. Parents and friends sacrificed in the fight for the greater good. Lives ruined due to the cruelty of fate and the prophecies that had marred not one, but already two of her lives and threatened the third.

She had not even noticed when Rhaegar's song ended… or that a lone tear had escaped her eyes. But the prince had noticed her, as had his knight, who had left as silently as his heavy armor allowed, to give the prince and his lady some privacy.

"Are you feeling alright, Lady Senna," the prince asked her, as he suddenly stood in front of her.

She had to look up, as Rhaegar towered almost a head above her. Her amethyst met his indigo eyes and she still found herself unable to reign in her raging emotions. Just what was that song? Some sort of magic, that took her emotional turmoil and crushed her with it?

"That song..." she said before her voice forsook her.

The prince adopted a doleful look, as he understood why she was like this. "Summerhall. It is the burden that will forever linger in my life. The day of my birth was nearly the day that House Targaryen had ended. So much death and only my life given back in return."

"I don't give anything back," Death muttered in Senna's ear, "What a fool to think differently."

"It would seem that all children of Valyria are doomed to suffer," Senna whispered, as she stared at the prince.

Rhaegar, in a moment of daring, placed one of his hands on her cheek and wiped away the tears that had fallen. The warmth of his touch was unexpected and Senna gasped slightly but allowed him this moment… even enjoying his touch far more than she was willing to admit herself. He may have seen only one life, but he seemed to know the burden she carried...

"Don't presume that you can take advantage of my emotional turmoil, prince," she said, followed by a shaky laugh.

"I wouldn't dare to infringe upon your honor in this way," Rhaegar replied with a smile of his own. "But come, let us sit down." He leads her to the bench, where he had left his harp, and sat beside her. "I've been told before that my songs would sometimes reduce women to tears, but I would have hardly believed you to be one of them." Nor would he have expected that much emotional turmoil in her eyes.

"You are not the only one who has seen great tragedies, prince," Senna replied.

He nodded simply. He was sure he knew what she was alluding to. He had been informed about her past and the tragic deaths of her family. And unlike him, she was the last of her family now. Alone in this world and away from her home, to marry into a family that had been at odds with hers for many centuries.

"When you look at me, what do you see, Rhaegar?"

He noted that she had simply used his name. No titles, not false pleasantries. Just his name and a question that demanded an honest answer.

"What I see," he said, as a thoughtful appeared on his face, while he looked at her, "I see a scared child, trying to be stronger than she really is, so she can survive in a world where a weakness is exploited."

She laughed in amusement. She had expected him to call her pretty or any such hollow words. But it still irked her, that he saw her as scared, no matter how true it might be. He had, however, been truthful with her, just as she had asked. It was a good start… but only that. A start.

"Your father will demand progress soon, Rhaegar. He seems so utterly obsessed with binding me to his family, that he will try to force the issue," Senna told the prince, who nodded.

"Yes. His majesty is… rather ill-tempered because of this issue," Rhaegar admitted. "But… he can't force the issue when we are both away from here."

Senna looked at him with an eyebrow raised in suspicion. She silently demanded an explanation from the prince, who elaborated, "Let me show you what my song was about. Let me show you Summerhall, the burden of House Targaryen." And maybe then she would share her own burdens with him as well. He didn't say it aloud, but Senna could see it in his eyes. This hope that she would open up to him.

"I doubt that the king would allow me to leave the city," Senna replied, a frown on her face. It obviously irked her, that this man presumed to have this much power over her. He may be king, but he was not her master.

"We will leave tonight. I will arrange for everything," Rhaegar told her.

She wasn't sure what he wanted to prove with this, but his idea, to sneak out in the dead of the night, it certainly appealed to her. It brought back memories of Hogwarts and late night excursions with the Weasley twins… good times, before dark lords and prophecies.

"Very well. You may show me your kingdom," Senna told him.

He looked quite pleased with himself and somehow Senna couldn't shake the feeling that this might have been his plan all along. To spirit her away from the city… for whatever dastardly reason. Well if he had any ill intentions, he would suffer the greatest shock of his life. She was no weak little maiden, but a witch of considerable power. A few more years of study and she might regain most of the power she had lost after her last demise.

"You will never be as powerful as you've been during your last life," Death whispered mockingly.

Of course, Senna knew that. In her second life, she had been the daughter of the goddess of magic. Her most powerful half-mortal daughter. This time around her only link to any kind of magic is the ancestor who had foreseen her struggle against the darkness… not exactly comforting. But she would still be able to defend herself with ease against most men in this world.

"Then I shall leave you to prepare. I will send someone to fetch you from your quarters at midnight. Be ready to leave immediately. And tell no one," Rhaegar told her before he collected his harp and left.

* * *

It was a moonless night, one of those Senna had come to like the most in her past life. No moon had also meant the absence of her least favorite goddess, something that she certainly craved. In this life, there were no gods or at least none that openly interact with the mortal world. But her love for these dark nights had not been diminished by this… or her last death for the matter.

And now this darkness would allow her an easier time to get away from King's Landing. She was already giddy like a teenager before her first date. She had not told any of her companions about this and even pretended to be asleep for at least an hour or two, so they would not bother her.

Her servants, ever vigilant, had realized that something was afoot, but neither Alia nor Lanna would dare to stop her from doing something she really wants. They would be worried, but nothing more would happen.

Mero would blow a gasket, that much was assured. But he would have no clue where to search for her, so he would be forced to stay here and mind her rooms in the keep until she would return. Maybe it would teach the narcissistic bastard that he was not her keeper, but only the temporary captain of her guard, until she would find a suitable candidate here to fill that post.

A soft knock on her door finally brought an end to her waiting and she quickly hurried to meet whoever Rhaegar had sent. Somehow she wasn't even surprised when she opened the door and saw Ser Arthur Dayne on the other side. The man was officially sworn to serve the king, but so far she had only seen him in the company of Prince Rhaegar. The keep's grapevine had even revealed to her that they were actually rather close friends as it seems.

The knight handed her a dark cloak and once her appearance was properly hidden underneath the hood, he leads her away from her chambers. Every now and then they stopped, to avoid the countless guards in the keep. But soon enough they had reached the stables, where several more hooded men were waiting. One of them was surely the prince, but the others worried her slightly.

"You are here. Good," so the closest man was the prince. That was something at least. "Quickly now." He pulled her along towards one of the horses, a black courser, that would have been fit for a tourney champion. Now it would serve her for this trip as the prince's companions helped her climb onto the saddle.

No one dared to stop the group, as they left the city and disappeared into the black night. Their absence would not be noted until much later that day. And by that time, they had already disappeared into the endless green of the Kingswood, not to be seen again until many days later.

So the group of five continued on, until they reached an inn, already far past noon. And as they took their first break on their way to Summerhall, it was the first occasion, when the prince actually introduced their other traveling companions to her.

Myles Mooton, younger son of the lord of Maidenpool and Richard Lonmouth, a son of a Stormlander noble family. Both were squires of the prince and quite an odd pair of friends for Rhaegar.

Senna learned soon enough, that Myles was a rather bold man. Easy to get along with and never ashamed of his own words and actions. Richard, on the other hand, indulged in alcohol more than he should, though he dealt with it rather well. If Rhaegar's reaction was any indication, these men always act like this.

She quickly loved to be around them. They and Arthur were a testament to the prince's ability to surround himself with the right kind of people. All three were utterly loyal, to such an extent, that Senna even found herself slightly envious by this. Would her own friends be as loyal? Mero, who would openly challenge her whenever he can? If push comes to shove, he would fight… because that is what he always does. Fighting. And Talea… gossip intrigues and not a single brave fiber in her entire body. No, in the end, Senna only had her servants, but that just wasn't the same compared to the real friendship Rhaegar shares with these three men.

* * *

Robert Baratheon, the oldest son, and heir of Lord Steffon was quite content, as he sat with his mother and brothers for supper and regaled them with stories of his adventures in the Vale. His three brothers, two by blood, one by choice, listened to his words, the older two commenting now and then. His mother merely sat there, that loving smile on her face as she fed little Renly and listened to her oldest escapades.

Ever so often Robert would draw his friend, Eddard Stark, closer to him in a one-armed hug when he told stories of the Northman's involvement. It was obvious to the other Baratheons, just how close the two boys had become, during their time in Lord Arryn's care and Cassana couldn't be happier for her son to have found such a good and loyal friend. Though she could also see the sour look on Stannis face, when Robert introduced Eddard as his new brother.

For the moment, however, she simply enjoyed this scene of peace and happiness, for however long it might last. She had seen the king before her husband had sent her back to Storm's End. She had seen the simmering madness in his eyes and his volatile temper and when she did, she feared for what chaos this man might cause… and she felt slightly guilty for bringing that innocent lady from Myr to this man, who was clearly obsessed with her and her lineage.

But none of that could harm them at the moment. This one peaceful moment that could have only been better, had her husband been with them as well. But Steffon had remained in King's Landing, for Lady Senna's sake, as he, just like her, felt guilty for the danger they had inadvertently put her in. And he hoped to foster strong ties between the Stormlands and the future royal family, to rebuild some of the bridges King Aerys had burned in recent years.

Their meal was interrupted in the end when their Maester entered with a small letter. He looked rather stoic, just like the old Maester always did, so she wasn't all that worried, even as he handed her the letter. It had been from Steffon, a note scribbled in haste.

"What is it, mother?" Stannis was the first to see her distress as she read the letter, but Robert quickly followed suit and asked for the letter, which she handed to him.

"Hah, she escaped," Robert said, laughing boisterously.

"Robert," his mother cautioned him, "This is no simple matter. Your father believes that she has left with Prince Rhaegar, which would be preferable to most other possibilities. But the king is rather volatile as of late and Lady Senna's sudden and unannounced disappearance has only added to his building rage."

"Let him rage. The lady isn't his slave," Robert scoffed.

"Still, as long as King Aerys sits on the throne, his rage is a terrible thing to behold," Cassana insisted. "Do as your father asks, Robert. Go to Summerhall and see if you can find the lady there. Urge her to return to King's Landing posthaste before the king does something that all of us will regret."

Robert looked sourly before he grabbed his goblet from the table and downed the wine in it in one large gulp. He pushed himself away from the table and stood up, nearly knocking his chair over in the process.

"I'll prepare for the journey then," he said simply, "Come, Ned, time to show you a bit more of my home."

The young Stark nodded and followed his friend after he thanked her politely for the meal and her hospitality. It only reinforced Cassana's liking of the boy. Oh, how she hoped that his sister was similar to him, for it would seem that both Robert and Steffon were quite intent on having her as the next lady of Storm's End. If she was anything like Eddard, Cassana couldn't wait to meet her. But that was for another day. For now, her worries would be the lady from Myr and her actions.

* * *

"Why did you bring the staff?" Myles asked as he steered his horse next to Senna's. He eyed the golden staff, that was dangling from the side of her saddle.

"Why did Ser Arthur bring his sword?" She asked in return, a smirk on her lips, as she looked at Rhaegar's squire.

"Don't make the mistake to believe that the sword is meant for fighting. He just likes to show off his family's heirloom," Rhaegar said calmly.

"It is so big, one might wonder if it is meant as compensation for..."

"Myles," Ser Arthur interrupted the squire harshly, "Control yourself, we are in the presence of a lady."

Myles looked quite shocked and embarrassed, as he realized that he was not talking to Richard or any of the usual crowd he was used to, but to the lady that would one day be the queen. Mortified by the possible ramifications of this, he quickly began to sputter apologies.

Senna merely laughed at this. She was used to crude talk from both of her former lives. But in this world, it was an absolute no go to talk like this to a noble-born girl. Even if she claimed that she did not mind, Myles would have to face the punishment from his lord for breaking this unwritten rule of conduct.

"Summerhall is near. No sight of anyone on the road ahead," Richard yelled, as he returned to the group.

Not an hour before, Rhaegar had sent him out to scout the road ahead, to avoid any run-ins with highwaymen or other sorts of bandits. Usually, they rarely saw any trouble on these roads, but with Senna as part of their group, the prince did not wish to take any chances. From his point of view, she was hardly able to defend herself… little did he know that her comparison between her staff and Arthur's sword revealed far more than he would have expected.

"There it is. Still as beautiful as always," Rhaegar said.

They had just reached the top of the hill, as the ruin of Summerhall appeared not far from them. The castle was mostly a burnt out skeleton of the former splendor it must have once held, but in the bright midday sun, it shone with a beauty that Senna had seldom seen before. And just seeing it… it was similar to the first time she had seen Hogwarts and Olympus.

"It is beautiful," she breathed, as she edged her horse to move faster. She was most eager to see this place up close.

The prince seemed amused by her enthusiasm and made to follow her with his knight and squires. So they hurried on and reached the ruin of the once so splendorous castle with great haste.

Senna had already jumped off her horse and began to explore when the men just arrived. There was no fear, no caution, just utter curiosity. Rhaegar noted this with great interest, as he also hoped to learn more about his future wife on this little escape from the capital…

His future wife. She had not agreed yet, but somehow Rhaegar knew that no other would suffice. Senna would be his queen and now it was up to them to find out whether the marriage would be harmonious… or as tragic as that of his own parents.

"Search the area, lads. I don't want any surprises waiting for us," Arthur ordered the squires before he joined the prince.

Myles and Richard quickly left in different directions, to ensure that they were truly alone. Once, years ago, this place been full of life, but now no one would travel to this castle.

Rhaegar made to follow Senna, whom he found not much later in the burnt remains of what had once been the great hall, where great celebrations had brought the people joy and laughter. Nothing was left of it, not even the stained glass windows, that had once shone brightly in all the colors imaginable.

"This place, it is so beautiful. Even in this state," Senna said, as she saw Rhaegar next to her. "What would I give to see this place in all its former glory."

"This castle was once a treasured retreat of my family. Away from the court and the intrigues there, it served the younger sons of House Targaryen well, until it burned to the ground," Rhaegar said, his voice tinged with sadness.

Senna watched him in silence for some time, as if she tried to understand his feelings by looking into his eyes. A determined glint could be seen in her eyes, as she asked him, "Tell me, Rhaegar, what has happened here?"

"No one knows for sure. It happened on the day of my birth, the great fire that nearly ended House Targaryen. Most of my family perished here, leaving only my grandfather and my parents alive. The great tragedy that haunts me to this day."

"Did they ever find out how the fire started?"

Rhaegar shook his head, "No. Maybe it was an accident. Maybe an assassination. My great grandfather and his children had made many enemies when all of them married for love and broke their betrothals."

Love against all odds in this kingdom. Senna smiled as she heard this. Her own family had never been this free. Every marriage was carefully planned by the family's elders. Spouses for the sons were carefully chosen, the daughters were wed to form powerful alliances in and outside of Myr. The same fate would have befallen her as well… who knows, she might still have been sent to King's Landing to marry Rhaegar, even if her family had survived.

"There were also rumors of a different kind. My great grandfather, King Aegon, had one dragon egg and some whisper behind closed doors that an attempt to hatch it had ended in the tragedy that killed him and most of the people at Summerhall."

"A dangerous game. Only those who truly know how to hatch and train a dragon should try their hand at it. And it should never be tried amidst a city or a castle," Senna said gravely. "I've seen your island. Dragonstone. Far better suited to try such a folly. But maybe… maybe it is better for dragons to remain extinct."

Rhaegar nodded, agreeing with her words. Even if he had an egg, he wouldn't try to hatch them. Years before, when he had just become the lord of Dragonstone, he had searched for them. A foolish little boy, who had been awed by the stories he had read in the books, about Aegon the Conqueror and his sister-wives. Summerhall would always be the tragic reminder of how foolish this was.

"But my heart aches, knowing that this beautiful place is left in such a state," Senna said. This place reminded her both of her home in Myr and Hogwarts, both places she had considered home for a long time.

"The memories here are hardly good for my family. In fact, I am the only one who has returned, after the fire. So no one will spend the coin necessary to restore it," Rhaegar told her.

By now they had left the hall and strolled into the courtyard, where the remains of half-burned dragon banners were still swaying gently in the wind. By now nature had also taken back what had once been hers and a plethora of plants was growing all over the ground and on the walls.

"This is a place of grief," Rhaegar continued.

But Senna disagreed, "Just because so many of your family died here? You would have to avoid a great many places if that were the case. I wouldn't see any of my homelands ever again if I followed that belief."

"Your family, how comes that you are the last of your line. I'd never asked," Rhaegar tried to steer the topic away from the Summerhall's tragedy and towards a much more interesting topic. At least for him. In all the reports he had found, the Peverells had always been described as a big family. Numerous members have been named throughout the centuries.

Senna sighed sadly, as she allowed her gaze to wander. Looking anywhere but at Rhaegar, who had asked her such a difficult question. She would answer, she wants to answer, but it was hardly a happy topic. But he had shared his family's tragedy, so she would share hers.

"Loyalty killed most of my family," she said simply. When she saw his confused look, she elaborated further, "My family had been among the founders of Myr. It has always been our city and one of the nine hills the city has been built upon was entirely dedicated to my family's estate. A few decades before the Doom of Valyria, they even abandoned their power as Dragonlords in the Freehold and made Myr their true home. Ever since we have bled and died for Myr."

"So war reduced your once so powerful house to what it is today?" Rhaegar asked, quite eager to hear the history of another Valyrian family that had existed for as long as his own.

"A few years before I was born, my father had three brothers and nine nephews, Rhaegar. They were numerous, they were virile and nothing seemed to be able to stop them. But then the war happened and everything changed. Before Maelys Blackfyre and his allies threatened your realm, they tried to subjugate the remaining Free cities close to their seat of power. Only Tyrosh submitted we resisted. But in the brief skirmishes my uncles died, as well as several of my cousins. Other members of my family were murdered on Maelys' orders, in the hope that removing us from existence would break Myr's will to fight."

"And in the end, only your father survived," Rhaegar finished for her. It was truly a tragedy, one just as great as his family's own. And in fact, her family's demise was caused by the offspring of Targaryen bastards… "In a way, I can understand why you have no wish to marry me."

"I am the last Peverell, Rhaegar. A history of over a thousand years and more will end with me. Understand that I am not opposed to marrying you, just because of the quarrel of men who are long dead, but because it is not easy to let such a legacy die," Senna told him, as the look on her face pleaded with him to understand.

She had lead two lives before, but neither the Potters' long legacy nor that of her godly mother in the second life could compare to the pride and the burden of such old and noble blood in a world where your name means more than anything else. She had been the last male Potter, a boy who had left behind several children to carry on his name. She had been just another demigod child, one of many who had come before and would come after. But now she was the last female heir of a family as old as recorded history. And that history would end, no matter what.

"Can I do anything to ease your mind? To make it easier for you to accept the inevitable?"

She laughed as she hard how he said this. It was clear to her that he had never considered failure an option. He seemed quite confident that he would be able to convince her. He had no idea that she had no intention to deny him for ever. Her resistance was a matter of pride.

"Convince me that you are a better man than your father, that should suffice for now," she told him before she walked on.

Rhaegar just stood where she had left him for a moment longer, deep in thought. This young woman still confuses him and he certainly did not like the way she did it. Maybe his initial assessment was wrong and she was not scared, but simply much more cautious than he would have expected.

"She is quite something," Arthur commented. So far he had kept a respectful distance from the prince and the lady, but he had still been close enough to hear everything. "She will be good for you."

"Really?" Rhaegar asked, not sure if he agreed to this.

"She will not allow you to do with her as you please. A strong queen might be all we need to avoid great trouble in the future. You have seen the discontent among the lords in the Seven Kingdoms. I believe that this lady could ensnare enough of them to keep the rest from doing anything foolish."

Rhaegar chuckled at this, "I hardly think that she can ensnare any of these lords you are talking about."

"It worked for you," Arthur shot back, a wide grin on his face, "And I've seen Myles and Richard falling over themselves to be in her good graces."

"Maybe, Arthur. Maybe you are right," Rhaegar muttered before he followed her.

He found her outside of the ruin, where both Myles and Richard had retreated to. Both squires were practicing with their swords, spurred on by the lady's presence. Rhaegar realized that Arthur had been right as he watched the two boys and Senna. Every word of encouragement, every gesture of favor from her made the boys stand taller. They tried to outdo each other for her sake. But when their swordplay got too daring and Senna requested them to stop, they complied, without argument… without hesitation. How very curious.

* * *

It was already late at night, long after most of the prince had gone to sleep, that Senna still lay awake. She pondered the events of the day, the things she had seen and heard. Rhaegar had told her much more of his family's history, though he omitted much of his own life until now. He kept some secrets from her, but she could not begrudge him this, seeing as she likely kept the bigger and more dangerous secrets to herself.

But seeing as sleep would still elude her, she decided to take a walk. Her group had taken up residence in a part of Summerhall, that had not been destroyed by the fire. The squires had been quick to offer themselves as a guard for her quarters, so even now one of them was standing or rather dozing outside of her door. Myles snored slightly, as he sat opposite of her door, leaning against the wall, his sword leaning against his shoulder.

She smiled as she saw the young squire, who had been so exhausted but still so eager to protect her. She would remember to do something nice for him, once she got the chance to. He was a good friend for Rhaegar and she hoped that he would be one for her as well.

She continued on, back outside and into the unkempt wilderness that once been the garden of this castle. In the days since they had left King's Landing, the moon had grown again and despite her dislike of it, she had to admit that its light tinged the garden with a magical glow.

The air was slightly chilly, a sign of the approaching winter, but nothing that a quick warming charm wouldn't change. The warmth of her magic was a pleasant sensation for sure and maybe she had enjoyed it a bit too long, as her moment of inattention had allowed someone else to approach her.

"I do believe that it is far too late and too cold for you to wander out here milady," the prince said, as he approached her. His features were half hidden in the darkness, as the only light came from the moon and a torch nearby. A torch in the hand of Ser Arthur, who kept his distance, as always.

"A bit of fresh air helps me think," Senna told him, "And at the moment I have a great many things to think about."

"Too much to find sleep?"

"What keeps you awake, my prince," she asked him mockingly in return.

"I do believe it is a young woman that torments me," he replied.

Senna laughed, "I only torment those who deserve it."

He sighed, whether in exasperation or amusement she couldn't tell, but he was quick to answer, "Then I have to ponder what mistake I've made to earn your wrath."

"You have yet to answer me. If I was your queen, where would you have me? By your side or at your feet?" Again she challenged him, just as she had done during their first meeting in King's Landing. But she wouldn't budge on this, she wants an answer and she would know should he lie.

"I want a partner I can trust," he told her. Truthfully, she was sure of it.

A partner, that was certainly a start. If that darned prophecy was to be believed, they would have to work together if this world was supposed to survive. And maybe… maybe she would one day even be able to love this man. From all she had heard about him, he was one of the few good members of his family.

"I believe that we can start with this," Senna told him finally.

If she could have seen all of his face, she would have seen the look of surprise. She certainly saw Arthur's grin. The knight seemed far too amused by this.

"Then you will agree to the betrothal?" Rhaegar asked her, just to clear things up.

"I do. But make no mistake, I do not submit, I merely agree to be your partner," Senna replied. "But there is one thing left that you need to do."

"And what would that be?"

"In Myr we have a custom for betrothals," Senna said, as she got closer to him, "They are sealed with a kiss, a solemn promise of devotion and fidelity."

The prince chuckled, as he heard this. She doubted that he had heard about this before, the people from Myr are not quite that open with their customs in front of strangers. But here she felt it was oddly fitting, reminiscent of some old customs of her first life. And so he complied.

"Who am I to go against tradition," he told her before he tilted her chin slightly upwards with his hand and leaned down to kiss her. It was a chaste touch of their lips, but to both, it was also a promise of what was to come. They would be together, as husband and wife, as king and queen, as father and mother. And though there was no love yet, they would try their utmost to make this work.

And somewhere, deep in the void beyond the planes of existence, Death watched the scene and cackled madly. No one could stand against fate. He had gotten what he wanted and his mistress had once more proven to be the most interesting mortal he had ever encountered.


	4. Daughter

For a few days they had been on their way, when Robert Baratheon and his best friend, Eddard Stark arrived at the ruins of Summerhall. The heir of Storm's End laughed boisterously, as he arrived first, ahead of Ned and the guards that had accompanied them. To him, the last part had been a race and he had won.

He had enjoyed showing the Stormlands to his best friend, even though he wasn't all that happy to be used for the sake of the Targaryens. To look for that prince and his runaway bride was not exactly his idea of fun. But for some reason, this lady was important to his father, so she would be important to him… for now at least. Once the pampered prince and his lady are safely back in King's Landing, he would return to the Eyrie and everything would be back to normal.

His arrival did not go unnoticed, however, and soon enough they were greeted by a knight of the Kingsguard, fully armed and dressed for combat.

"Halt," the knight ordered loudly, "Who goes there?"

"Robert Baratheon, son and heir of Lord Steffon Baratheon of Storm's End," Robert replied quickly.

"And why is the heir of Storm's End here? Summerhall is in the possession of House Targaryen, not House Baratheon," the knight replied stoically. "Leave now."

By now the rest of his companions had caught up to Robert and waited close to him. "I am here on behalf of my lord father, to find the missing Lady Senna Peverell."

The knight tensed when he heard the name. So the lady is here… or she had been here. Robert smirked, as he continued, "The lady has to return to the capital. It is the king's wish for her to return to the safety of the Red Keep."

"Let them come, Arthur!"

Prince Rhaegar appeared on the scene, in all his Targaryen glory, looking at Robert with polite disinterest. It irked the younger man, but he kept his mouth shut… for now. At least Ser Arthur complied and followed the prince. The only other option would have been to use force. It would have been a challenge, but one Robert was not sure he would win. Ser Arthur Dayne is known far and wide as one of the finest fighters in the realm.

"Haughty piece of shit," Robert muttered, as he followed the prince into the ruin. Ned followed quickly, though he was hard pressed to keep up with Robert's long steps. It was plainly obvious that the heir of Storm's End wanted to get this over with as soon as possible.

Soon they reached a courtyard, where they could hear the sounds of fighting. Steel meeting steel but the relaxed stance of Ser Arthur quickly made it clear that he knew what was going on.

The origin of the sounds was a small fight. Two young men, squires most likely. But Robert did not pay them much attention, though he did itch for a fight himself. His own attention, however, was drawn towards the woman, who sat not far from the squires.

Silver-haired, like a Targaryen and a face that was quite lovely to look at. But unlike the Targaryens there was a presence about her, that was both captivating and worrying. He couldn't find the right word to describe it, but the more he looked at her, the more his wariness as well as his desire to stay close to her grew. It confused him to no end… and he hates being confused.

The woman turned towards the prince and smiled before her eyes found the new arrivals. The smile waned slightly, as she saw Robert's frown. But she stood up none the less to greet them. Even the way she carried herself was utterly strange to Robert, but he pushed his confusion away, as she stood before him, expecting an introduction.

"Hello there. I don't believe we've met before. I am Senna Peverell, Lady of House Peverell of Myr," she spoke first, much to Robert's surprise. She obviously had no interest in having the prince introduce her, as would be expected. Usually, a man would speak on the woman's behalf, especially with armed strangers. But there was no fear, no hesitation. Just that irritatingly friendly smile and her curious Targaryen eyes.

"Robert, of House Baratheon," he muttered in reply, as he couldn't stand looking at her any longer.

Her curiosity was obviously peaked, when she heard this, "Baratheon? So you are related to Lord Steffon?"

She said his father's name almost casually, which made Robert wonder just what his father was to this woman. But he nodded at her question before he pushed Ned forward.

"I'm Eddard Stark," the Northman introduced himself quickly. The young Stark seemed irritated for some reason, but not with this girl, but with him.

An awkward silence followed before the young lady looked curiously at the prince. Rhaegar had watched the scene with some amusement, but at her prompting, he joined her side.

"Lord Baratheon, why you are really here?" the prince demanded to know.

Why was he here? Robert thought furiously. To get that Targaryen ass and his haughty betrothed back to King's Landing before the king's wrath would be directed at his father. But he was no complete fool. He was well aware that he shouldn't say that out loud.

"I am here on behalf of my father. The lady's absence in King's Landing has caused a lot of strife at court and I am here to urge her to return," Robert said loudly.

No one looked surprised by this. They all had obviously expected this to happen sooner or later, but the dejected look on the lady's face revealed her true feelings. She was obviously not that happy about returning to the king's direct influence.

Senna sighed and averted her gaze. She looked at the ruins, as she said, "I should have known that this peace wouldn't last forever, Rhaegar. Your father presumes much, but unless I return, he might choose my friends to vent his frustrations."

"We've only been here for two days, a little longer won't be an issue. If you'd like to stay," the prince replied.

Robert watched as the lady's shoulders slumped slightly. "No, Rhaegar. We should head back. Now that I have agreed to be your wife, there is much to be done. Magister Varghan will likely want to add some stipulations to our marriage, once he hears about this," she turned towards the prince and flashed him a roguish smile. "Let's get back… home."

"As you wish," the prince assented. "Arthur, prepare everything for our departure." Then he walked away, not talking to Robert any more than that, much to the young man's obvious anger.

Senna saw the sour look on Robert's face and even as he glared at her, she got closer to Robert. Like Rhaegar, he was almost a full head taller than her, though she was sure that he couldn't be much older. But it didn't stop her from staring him down.

"Don't presume that the prince ignores you out of spite. But there is a whole lot more on his mind than the petty grievances of arrogant lordlings."

Robert was stumped by her audacity. A moment before she had seemed to be little more than some flighty little girl, who got chosen by the Targaryens to breed new madmen for them. Now, after both Ser Arthur and the prince were out of earshot, she showed a fiery spirit. It was a challenge and Robert Baratheon was no man to let such a thing slide.

"And what would that be? What a great lay you were last night?" he asked her with a smirk. But Ned next to him looked indignant by how they spoke to each other and it was obvious that he wanted him to stop, but Robert wouldn't listen. Not now.

"Do you doubt my honor, Lord Baratheon," Senna asked him, her voice deadly calm. "Let me assure you of one thing. I am not one of those whores at court, who spread their legs for five minutes of influence on the powerful. Insult me again and you will see what I am truly capable of." She turned around and walked away from him, though she stopped one more time, "Consider this your first and only warning, Robert."

"The nerve of her," Robert said angrily, as he clenched his fists tightly.

"You insulted her, Robert," Ned told him.

Of course he knew that. The words had been out of his mouth before he had time to think twice. But who could have expected that this so-called jewel had such fire in her? He had expected to be nothing more than some dainty lady from across the narrow sea, with little sense and an abundance of selfish pride. Oh and she truly is prideful.

"We see to it that she gets to King's Landing and then we get to the Eyrie as fast as possible. The further away we are from the dragons and their ladies the better," Robert spat before he returned to his horse.

Ned could only follow him and hope that neither Robert nor that foreign lady would do anything rash. The king's wrath was the last thing they would need now and open conflict with Lady Senna would without a doubt be brought to the king's attention.

* * *

The return to King's Landing was a far more public affair than their departure, much to Rhaegar's obvious dislike. Halfway through the Kingswood Lord Commander Hightower of the Kingsguard found them, with no less than fifty or more men in tow. Several of Lady Senna's own guards were among their numbers, all here on the king's order to escort her safely to the keep.

Rhaegar would have scoffed at the falseness of their claims, but refrained from doing so, as the Lord Commander would likely upbraid him for such unworthy conduct. The man was already lecturing Arthur about all the rules he had disregarded, just to let the prince have his way. More than once he even saw the man, as he looked at Senna with thinly disguised dislike. That was something he would have to think about later.

But as they arrived at the Red Keep, half of the city had seen their return. With all the guards protecting them on their way, it looked more like a glorious return from some grand battle, than what it really was, some runaways escorted back to their parents. He looked towards Senna, curious to see how she would fare with this much attention on her. But she was taking it all in a stride, even better than he was himself. She was smiling at the people, even winking at them. And the people love her for it.

Her smiled waned, however, once they had reached the keep. Almost immediately she was surrounded by her own guards and entourage. She escaped them once more to reach his side, much to his surprise. He would have expected for her to leave as quickly as possible, so the commotion would die down. Yet here she was, looking at him quite expectantly.

"Is there anything more I can do for you, Senna," he asked her.

Again that roguish smirk appeared on her lips before she pulled him down and kissed his cheek. "I do believe that this should be convincing enough for everyone, don't you agree?" Then she walked away from him and entered the keep, followed by a gaggle of guards and servants.

The other people outside of the keep were eerily silent, as they watched the prince's reaction. This must have been the most surprising thing they had seen in a long time and in a way it was almost amusing to see them now. Before they had left, it had been common knowledge that the lady was not amused by the idea of marrying him. And now she kissed him, on the cheek, not that it would have mattered to this people if she had kissed him on the lips or anywhere else. That she was the one to initiate this made their changed relationship clear to everyone. And within the hour, the whole city would know.

Rhaegar quickly left the scene as well, after leaving his horse in his squire's care. There were some questions he did not wish to answer at the moment. So he began looking for the one person who would never judge him. His mother.

He found the queen and his younger brother in the nursery, where his mother watched her youngest play. She looked content, smiling softly at Viserys who played with a dragon, carved from a piece of pitch black wood. But something was off and Rhaegar quickly spotted what it was. Though she tried to hide them, the prince saw the bruises on his mother's arms and throat. She quickly covered them, once she realized he was there, but he had seen enough.

"My son. I'm so glad that you've returned," Rhaella greeted him as she hugged him closely. "Your father was most displeased with this game of yours."

"Has he hurt you like this," he grabbed her arm and pushed the sleeve back, to reveal the bruises. "Answer me, mother. Please."

She smiled at him, a sardonic expression that belied what she must have truly felt. "The king was quite angry, Rhaegar. Not because of you… but he is obsessed with the young lady."

"Because she is a Peverell?"

"Yes," she agreed, "To him, she is the god sent proof that he will be the greatest king in the history of our family. He will not let her go."

"He will never have her. She is mine," he answered.

His mother smiled at him, though he eyes still showed sadness, "So she has agreed," Rhaegar nodded, "Good. This is very good for us. But… are you happy, Rhaegar?"

"How am I supposed to be happy when my father's madness grows by the hour. How am I supposed to be happy when you have to pay for my mistakes?"

"It's a mother's prerogative to protect her children, even if that means sacrificing herself in the process," Rhaella told him. "You will understand once you have children of your own. And with Lady Senna as their mother, I doubt that even your father, with all his power. would be able to touch them."

Rhaegar smiled wistfully at that, "She is quite strong and spirited. She does not shy away from speaking her mind." She would be a strong queen. Proud, beautiful and without a doubt in a leading role.

"Your brother has taken a liking to her. He seemed quite put out when I told him that she is to be your wife, not his," she smiled, the first true smile in this conversation, as she looked towards the toddler who was still playing at the other end of the room.

"He will have to accept it," Rhaegar said simply. "But back to your injuries..."

"It is alright, Rhaegar. I can protect myself. Do not worry on my account," the queen tried to placate him, but her son would have none of that.

"If he tries any of this again, tell me," he ordered sternly.

"And what then? What good will it do you?"

"I will find a way to end this," Rhaegar promised her. He had no idea how, but he would. For his family. To protect them from the madman his father had become.

* * *

It had happened in the first night after her return. The first attempt on her life in this new kingdom. It wasn't the first time that someone had wished to see her dead, but it was shocking how close the assassin got this time. She had been lucky to be awake when he snuck into her rooms. It was already dark outside and under other circumstances she would have been asleep for some time, but by mere chance, she had not been able to find sleep.

Awake and angry, she made quick work of the attacker and blasted the fool through her door and into the hallway, where half a dozen guards were standing. Not a moment later he was stabbed to death by them.

Mero wouldn't leave her side after this and much to her relief, no one asked the question just how she had been able to blast a fully grown man through the door. Luckily only the Myrish guards had been close enough to see this happen and they were utterly loyal to her. Most were used to unexplainable things happening close to the Jewel of Myr, they did not question it anymore.

A consequence of the assassination attempt were the executions. Aerys had a dozen servants imprisoned for aiding the intruder. All based on supposed evidence given by the Grand Maester and the Master of Whispers. Senna had never seen the evidence, but it was obvious that it was flimsy at best. Not that it would have stopped the king. Three days after the attack, all twelve were executed publicly, without a trial, without a chance to defend themselves. And as their heads rolled on the ground before the Great Sept, the crowd cheered loudly. Senna could only watch silently as the blood of innocents was spilled in her name.

Worse yet, in the aftermath of the executions, she was lead to the king's private rooms, which were separate from those of his family. Aerys, who had not seen the need to observe the executions, this time, had ordered for her to be brought to him, as soon as she had witnessed the fate of those who dare to cross the king.

So the lord commander himself brought her to the king before he left them alone. Ser Gerold did not speak a word to her the entire time, not that she had any particular wish to speak at that very moment. But as she stood in a large room of the king's private chambers, which was furnished lavishly, she somehow wished that someone else was there to witness whatever madness the king had prepared for her. It wasn't fear of the man, that made her feel uncomfortable, but rather the wish to keep her own powers a secret for as long as possible. Revealing too much too soon would be unwise. But she a gut feeling that the king would need a more hands on convincing to leave her in peace.

Aerys Targaryen joined her not much later. He looked even more haggard than during their first meeting in the throne room. His beard had grown more, as had his unkempt hair. And with his gaunt face and haunted eyes, he looked more like a wraith than a man. Like he had a run in with a Dementor… she shuddered as she remembered those particular creatures from her first life.

But the king had seen her shudder and obviously believed that he was the reason for it. He cackled darkly, as he approached her.

"Did you enjoy the spectacle, my dear?" Aerys asked, a mad gleam in his eyes. "I've told them to make it especially bloody for your sake."

"Were those people really involved or had they been unfortunate to be too close when you needed a dozen victims?" Senna shot back, as she glared at the man.

He stood so close, that she could smell his rancid breath. He disgusted her and just being this close to this man made her sick in her stomach. If more of his family members were like this, she could easily see why her family had despised the Targaryens this much… yet Rhaegar and Viserys were so different. The latter was a sweet and innocent little boy, the other a handsome and charming man. She could hardly see how they could possibly be the spawns of this monster. Especially Rhaegar who seemed to be the epitome of the shining knight from the fairy tales.

"Necessary sacrifices for the greater good of the royal family. No one will dare to interfere with my rule," Aerys replied before he cackled again.

"The greater good, you are a monster, nothing more," Senna spat, as she stepped away from him. "You sow hatred wherever you go and soon your whole family will have to reap."

Aerys closed the gap between them immediately and grabbed her arm. His long fingernails, sharper than expected, left some bleeding scratches on her exposed skin. She slapped his hand away, but the king would be dissuaded from his mad idea to touch her.

"Maybe we should execute some of your retainers as well. Just to ensure that everyone understands that no one is safe and that treason will be punished accordingly," Aerys told her, a vicious grin on his face. "Those little handmaidens of yours, pretty little things. Their agonized screams will serve as a warning to everyone."

Senna was outraged by this, "You wouldn't dare!"

"This is my realm and I do as I please. Every man, woman, and child live and die by my command. If I so wish to burn it all, it will burn! And now that you have agreed to marry my son, you are mine to do with as I please as well."

Senna's anger rose to new heights, as she heard the man's mad delusions. He dared to threaten her friends. When she heard Death's own mad laughs in the back of her mind, she snapped. With one swift motion of her hand, she banished the madman away from her and across the room. He crashed into a table, causing everything that was on it to drop on the ground with great noise.

And her eyes glowed with power, as she approached the man, as he lay on the ground, still cackling like mad. There was no fear in the face of her display of power. Now, he looked pleased by it. She could only wonder how deranged Aerys truly was.

"Threaten me or any of those close to me ever again and I will end you. That is a promise," she told Aerys, her voice deadly cold, just as the look on her face.

The noise, however, had also alerted the two knights, who stood guard just outside of the room. They burst into the room, swords in hand, ready to slay whoever dared to attack their king. Ser Gerold and Prince Lewyn Martell looked quite surprised, when they did not find another assassin, but rather Lady Senna standing over the king, her arm bloody and the king obviously wounded on the ground before her feet.

Before any words could be spoken, Ser Gerold had already crossed the room and stood close to the king, the tip of his sword barely touching the skin of Senna's throat. Ever dutiful he was ready to defend his king. Prince Lewyn as well, though he seemed less ready to cut her down on a whim.

"Your grace, has this woman attacked you?" Leywn said as he knelt beside Aerys to help the king up from the ground.

Aerys cackled again, much to Senna's disgust. This quickly became her most hated sound in this world. "Let her go. I do not wish my daughter harmed."

She looked at him with revulsion, as he called her his daughter. Soon enough she would be part of his family, no matter how much she despises him and he knows that it would give him some influence over her fate.

The knights complied with the order, though the Lord Commander seemed quite displeased by this. It was odd to see such animosity from him, but Senna knew that this was not the moment to pry for answers. Instead, she turned away and left the room without as much as a by your leave from the king.

"Follow her, Martell. Do not let her out of your sight. There will surely be more attempts on her life soon," Aerys ordered the Dornish knight before he retreated to another room for some much-needed rest. But both knights could easily see, that despite his obvious pain, the king seemed oddly giddy at the moment. They could only wonder why.

* * *

Robert Baratheon wasn't in the best of moods. In fact, he was once more quite angry. He had planned to leave the capital as soon as he had dropped off the prince and his betrothed, to return to the Vale, where he could continue his life in the same manner as he had done before. But his father had quickly put an end to this wish.

Apparently Steffon Baratheon had not just sent ravens to Storm's End, but to the Eyrie as well. One of those letters was the wish for Robert to stay in the capital with his father for the foreseeable future. At least until after the wedding, Steffon had written. The wedding! It would take at least three more turns of the moon for this grand event to begin! And Robert couldn't even stand to be here for less that a day.

Worse yet, Jon Arryn had agreed readily, citing that it would be a valuable experience for his ward to stay in King's Landing and learn the customs at court. He had even asked for Ned, his other ward, to be allowed to stay as well. Lord Arryn himself would join them at a later date when he would come to attend the wedding…

Robert was furious, but his father, ever stern, commanded him to cease his childish antics. And Robert had to comply, however unwilling it was. But that did not mean that the young Baratheon would not do what he loves the most. Drinking and whoring. Both in spades.

So it happened that he sat in one of King's Landings many taverns, a mug of some northern brew before him and his eyes on a group of women, who obviously sold their bodies to the highest bidder. Oh, his father would not agree, should he bed one of them. Just what he needed at the moment.

But before he could stand up, someone sat down at his table, across from him. A slender figure, a woman most likely, though he curves were hidden by a too large cloak. She was obviously not one of the whores, not with that strange scar on her forehead. The whores would try to cover such blemishes up. None the less he quite liked looking at her, with her pitch black hair and mesmerizing green eyes.

"Fancy seeing you here, Baratheon," the woman spoke with an accent he did not know, though it oddly fitted with the way she looked.

"Do I know you," he grunted back.

He was sure that he had never seen her before, but that mysterious smile on her lips showed that she obviously thought otherwise. What a maddening scene for him.

"Don't tell me you've already forgotten the woman you've called a whore at Summerhall," her voice was taunting, as was her smile.

Summerhall? But this… impossible. This couldn't be that dainty lady. Her hair was pale and her eyes were like amethysts. Certainly not those green gems he was looking at now. This just couldn't be Senna Peverell. But his look of disbelief amused her greatly.

"It is true, Baratheon, I am who you think. Though it might be better for you to call me Dorea when I look like this. Just for your own safety, not mine," again she taunted him.

"You are lying," he stated quickly.

"Really? What makes you think that?"

"No man can change his looks just like that!" he stated with full conviction.

But she merely laughed, "No man," she agreed, "I am no man, Baratheon."

She raised the hood of her cloak, to hide her features for a moment before she made some gesture with her hand. When she showed her face to him again, he was staring directly into the amethyst colored eyes of Senna Peverell. A moment later, the hood was down again and her eyes had returned to the green from before. He was speechless… surely he had not drank that much. Not yet at least.

"I am in need of your help, Baratheon," she said quietly.

"What?"

"I said that I need your help. Are you deaf?" She laughed lightly again.

Oh, how her taunting annoyed him to no end. But it also intrigued her just how she manages to look completely different with only a flick of her wrist.

"What do you want?"

"I need to find out who sent that assassin," Senna told him.

Robert had heard about her brush with death. Everyone in the city had. He had also heard about the executions, though he had skipped that particular show of Targaryen power. But it was quite surprising to see the lady trying to find her enemies by herself. As if there was a lack of willing servants for her. So why was she here by herself… and why was she asking him?

"Don't look so cross with me. I see no need to hold a grudge because of some ill-chosen words at Summerhall," she told him.

He scoffed, "You need me. Otherwise, you wouldn't even bother talking to me."

She chuckled and shook her head, "I don't need you to fulfill my task. But it would make things easier for me. And it would give us a chance to get along better. Believe it or not, but I respect your father and I do not wish to be your enemy."

There seemed no falsehood in her words, but he was not entirely convinced. Even if she was honest, could he really trust a woman who could change her looks like others change their clothes? But what could possibly happen, should he listen to her now?

"What do you want me to do?"

She threw a bag on the table. By the sound it made, it was obviously filled with countless coins.

"Take this money and enjoy your evening. Be merry and let the people around you enjoy being close to you. They will talk more willingly when they like you. Just listen to what they have to say, then tell me what you've heard."

It sounded simple enough. And it made him both curious and wary. But a night of drunken revelry with her gold, he would do that. Who knows, maybe she wasn't all that bad… for a future Targaryen at least. Ned would definitely be curious about this all.

"Fine..."

"Good. But remember, keep my involvement a secret. You may tell your friend, he seemed to be a good man from what I've heard, but tell no one else. Not even your father," she cautioned him.

"Do you think I'm a fool? Who would believe me?" a woman that can change her appearance at will, they would think that he is even madder than Aerys.

"Thank you, Robert. I will find you tomorrow. For now, I have some more places to visit tonight," Senna told him, as she stood up and left.

Robert remained alone with his thoughts, though he wasn't troubled for long. Instead, he took the bag filled with coins and ordered drinks for the whole tavern. Needless to say, he was the favorite patron of the night.

When he woke up the next morning, he was back in his own bed, with a skull-splitting headache. He had no idea how he had gotten back, but to his surprise, he found a small vial on the table next to him. A small piece of paper with a message was next to it.

_A little help with your hangover. It tastes wretched, but it helps. Hope you haven't forgotten everything in your drunken stupor – regards, S._

He wasn't sure what to think, but with the way he felt at the moment, the vial could contain poison and he would still drink it. Just to get rid of the mother of all hangovers.

* * *

"This is unacceptable!" Magister Varghan raged, "Lady Senna is not some harlot you can buy for a few shiny coins!"

The magister was quite displeased as he sat in the chamber of the king's Small Council, where they negotiated the legal side of Senna's intended betrothal to Prince Rhaegar. The future bride and groom were present as well, though both stayed out of the war that was raging between the magister and the Hand of the King.

"She is from a foreign realm, has no great lands or armies to her name. An alliance with a dying house isn't very profitable either. Don't overestimate her worth, magister," Tywin Lannister stated coldly, as he stared at Varghan.

The lord of Casterly Rock looked at her as he said this, his eyes revealing the distrust he must feel towards her. Not that she could fault him for that. But the man seemed highly reluctant to make her the next queen of their realm. Maybe because she was a foreigner, maybe for more personal reasons. She had no idea.

The magister scoffed at Lord Twyin's words, "She is Myr's queen in all but name. Her family founded Myr and as such it is her land! Her marriage to your prince would align the Free City of Myr with your realm. That is much more than what any of those so-called noble ladies in your realm can offer," Varghan stated boldly.

As he proclaimed her as the queen of Myr, all eyes in the room shifted towards her. Especially the king looked at her with greedy eyes, much to her disgust. But Senna had no idea why Varghan would make such a bold claim, especially when Myr is ruled the by the Conclave and not by a single sovereign. But maybe it was just his tactic.

"So you offer that Myr joins the realm and becomes a subject of the Iron Throne?" Tywin asked, obviously not believing this. But there was still that calculating gleam in his eyes, one that the magister recognized with a frown.

Senna did not like the way he looked at her after that either. One thing was for sure, Tywin Lannister was just as powerful as he was prideful. A dangerous combination. And she would have to find a way to either work with him or remove him from her future family if she wished to do all that she had planned.

"Don't be ridiculous. Myr will never give up its freedom. But it will forever stand and fight for our beloved lady and those of her blood!"

"A queen with an army of her own, not exactly an endearing thing," the Hand of the King replied. "Who can assure us that she won't try to stage a coup against the royal family as soon as she sees a chance."

"What guarantee can you give us that your king won't have her executed the moment she has given his son the heirs he needs?" Varghan asked in reply.

"Raise the bride price, Tywin," the king commanded.

The lord sighed in annoyance, but complied with his king's command, "Very well. We double the aforementioned sum and..."

"And we will add Summerhall," Rhaegar interrupted. When all the men in the room looked at him, he continued, "I will make Summerhall my gift to Lady Senna, after it has been restored to its former beauty."

Senna was surprised by this turn of events. The castle obviously had great importance for Prince Rhaegar, so why was he giving it away, just like that? When she looked at him, he just showed her a pleasant smile, but no answers.

"A worthy offer," the king said, "You will accept this!" Aerys did not look at the magister, but at Senna when he said this. He commanded her to accept.

The magister was about to argue again, when Senna stood up and announced loudly, "The sense in this negotiation is lost to me when both sides have more gold than they could ever need. But Summerhall is a gift of great personal value. As such I am willing to add a gift of my own, that will be of equal, if not even far greater personal value to House Targaryen. My gift to my future husband shall be three dragon eggs, that have been guarded by my family since the days of old Valyria."

The whole room fell silent as she said this. Most were shocked, some even pale as ghosts as they understood what she had just proclaimed. Dragon eggs. Three dragon eggs and she would give them to the Targaryens. This would either lead to a second tragedy like Summerhall… or it would give the Mad King the means to burn the entire realm to cinders. Of course, Aerys Targaryen looked like a child on a sugar rush.

"We agree," the king proclaimed quickly. "This negotiation is over!"

Senna nodded calmly before she left. She was sure that it was the right decision to reveal the eggs at this point. Sooner or later they would likely need the dragons for to counter the darkness that would await their realm. No matter how much she disliked the idea of anyone bringing back those raging beasts, it had to be done.

She left soon after, no interest in the slightest to face any of the men from this meeting. Magister Varghan, the king, Rhaegar, even Tywin Lannister, all would demand to know where she had those eggs. Until the day of her wedding, they would not get their hands on them.

To escape the numerous pursuers, she retreated to the gardens once more. For a moment, she considered going somewhere… further away. If she wanted to, she could possible apparate back to her own home in Myr. But should anyone but her servants see her there, there would be questions that she did not wish to answer? So she decided that the gardens would have to suffice for now.

But as she approached her favorite terrace, she found it already occupied. The queen sat there, with her younger son and a few of her ladies, guarded by a knight of the Kingsguard. Senna already wanted to leave, to find her peace elsewhere, when the queen saw her and motioned for her to come closer.

She sighed, but unwilling to ruin any chance for a normal relationship with her future mother-in-law, she approached the terrace the queen was on. Before anyone could say a thing to her, Prince Viserys ran over to her, as fast as his short legs would carry him and pulled on her dress.

"Bird! I want the pretty bird!" he demanded, much to Senna's amusement.

"Viserys, don't be rude," the queen chided her son gently. "You must excuse him, he has been fussy and demanding all day," she told Senna.

"Please don't worry on my account, your grace," Senna replied, as she sat down at the offered place at the queen's table. The other ladies, who had kept Queen Rhaella company quickly excused themselves and left, much to Senna's surprise.

"So… you have decided to marry my son," the queen stated. It wasn't much of a question, so Senna refrained from answering and focused on the young prince, who demanded to sit on her lap again.

"It would seem that both my sons have taken a liking to you. Excuse me if this sounds rude to you, but I'm not sure what to think about that. It's a mother's right to worry about her children. You will understand once you have children of your own. Maybe in a year or two, if the Seven are generous."

It was odd to talk about this with the queen and Senna had no idea what to say. Was she even ready to be a mother? She was barely over sixteen years old and considering her previous lives, she was still very much a child herself. In this world girls her age and younger get married and have children of their own… But what kind of mother would she be? She remembered being a father in her first life. That was relatively easy. Any dreams of a family were denied to her in her second life when she died too young to even consider having children. And now… now having a family was not an option, it was mandatory.

"You are awfully quiet, my dear. Am I that frightening to you?"

"Forgive me, your grace. Where I come from, a mother-in-law is sometimes called a dragon, due to their viciousness," she smiled wryly, "but no, I do not fear you."

"A dragon? How oddly fitting," Rhaella laughed lightly, amused by this. "My husband considers himself a dragon. So do my sons on occasion. But we are mortals, are we not?"

"All families have an animal to represent them. Here you have Baratheons as stags, Starks as wolves, Lannisters as lions and..."

"And what would you be?" the queen asked, still obviously amused.

"A phoenix," Senna replied without hesitation. But of course the queen could not know what a phoenix truly was. Few did. Hell, she didn't even know where her phoenix had come from. He had bonded with her ancestor some hundred years ago and returned to her from wherever he had spent his time. "It is a bird, bigger than most and quite beautiful. Their song is so beautiful that it gives hope to even the most desperate soul."

The queen looked at her with great surprise, as she heard Senna's explanation. "To give hope to those most desperate… is that why you are here? To give hope?"

"I do believe that I have a purpose here, your grace," Senna replied evenly. "And though our houses share a long history of strife and bloodshed, we should use this chance to end the feud once and for all."

"A noble endeavor, however, I have my doubts that my husband shares your enthusiasm about this. To him you are nothing more but a trophy, won at the end of a long war. He has no intention to end the feud, he believes that he has won."

"Then let him live with his illusions for whatever years he has left in this world," she hesitated, as she realized what she was about to say… and more importantly to whom she was speaking. But she had not hesitated to speak her mind before, she would do so again, "King Aerys and his petty delusions are of no consequence to me."

The queen laughed softly, as she looked at Senna with some new found fondness, "You truly are a bold one. I can only hope that my son knows what he is getting into."

"I doubt any of us know what comes next. But at least we can find out together. There is nothing worse than being all alone," Senna replied, as she averted her gaze from the queen and looked out to the Blackwater Bay.

She was no stranger to utter loneliness. Three lives without parents, two completely alone. And she had seen even worse in her past. The memories of her second life were still incomplete and often returned as nightmares to her, but when she remembered how she had died the second time, it had haunted her for months. Utterly alone, sacrificing herself for the sake of her siblings. The only thing worse than living alone… was dying alone, knowing that no one will remember you.

The queen had obviously misunderstood the reason for Senna's sudden sadness, as she placed her hand on the girls shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Fret not, my dear. House Peverell may be gone, but soon you will be a Targaryen and our family will return to its former glory."

Senna could only give the woman a sad smile in return, as the memory of her past overwhelmed her once more. Even Death refrained from mocking her when she was like this. This was only her third life and he had told her once that it gets easier with time. The day would come when she would be apathetic to the ghosts of her past… she feared that day more than the idea of dying.

For her relationship with the queen, however, this moment of weakness on her part changed everything. Where Queen Rhaella had seen a possible threat to her children before, she now saw the lonely girl from Myr. She couldn't know what Senna really was, but she knew what the girl would be in the near future. Her daughter...


	5. Magic

"So you've heard nothing useful," she said with a sigh.

She sat in a tavern once more, hidden safely in the privacy a secluded room in the back of the building. Robert Baratheon sat across from her. He had just recounted pretty much all he could remember before his complete drunken blackout that night. It wasn't much, however, much to her consternation.

Other than the last time, Robert wasn't alone. His best friend sat next to him and watched with her with great curiosity. Surely the young Stark must have thought that Robert had just made up some story to justify his drunk night of lecherous adventure…

But now Ned saw that this was not the case. Robert had told him the truth. And now he sat across of Senna Peverell or rather Dorea, the lady's elaborate disguise and listened to her conversation with his friend.

"Those people here know nothing. They were more outraged by the attack than anything. Makes me wonder why " Robert grunted before he took another greedy gulp from the cup before him. He emptied it in one go, but when he reached for the nearby jug to refill it, Senna stopped him.

"Don't drink too much. We still have much to do, Robert," she told him, as she looked at him sternly.

He growled in annoyance, as he complained, "Remind me why I'm helping you again?"

"Because your father has asked you to keep me safe," she told him sweetly, "And because we are such great friends."

"As if," he scoffed. She was right about his father, but friends… no chance in hell. She may not like it now, but she was pretty much a Targaryen now. He does not like Targaryens… But that she looked different made it easier at least.

"Fine," she huffed in annoyance, "once we are done I will give you a special treat. A drink that you have never had before, I guarantee it."

"Idle promises," Robert replied with a smirk.

"Lady S..."

"Don't!" Senna cautioned him. "My name is Dorea when I look like this, please remember that, Eddard."

The young Stark nodded, though he wasn't entirely convinced. From the few short moments, Senna had spent with him, she had quickly realized that he valued honor above all else. Hiding and her cloak and dagger tactics were obviously not how he would have handled this situation. But he trusts Robert, so he had come to help. Loyal like a Hufflepuff… Senna had to smother her smirk, as she tried to imagine the boy in the black and yellow robes of the House of Badgers…

"Get to the point," Robert said sourly. "If I can't drink, then let's get this over with." Another thing most people quickly learned about Robert is, that a sober Robert is often a grumpy Robert. She had no idea why, though. She knew that some people tend to drink this much to drown their sorrow. But Robert had no real reason for that… it bothered her.

"Of course," Senna told him sweetly. "I had my men examine that assassin and guess what they've found."

"My wine?" Robert asked.

She laughed lightly, as she shook her head, "No wine until we are done here. You can drink yourself into oblivion once I'm gone." And he likely would do just that. He seemed rather miserable these days, so it was likely that alcohol was his remedy.

"Not a moment too soon. The longer I have to stay close to those Targaryens the more I question my father's sanity..." Robert lamented.

Senna had heard these complaints before. Robert was strongly opposed to the royal family. It wasn't hatred, but a profound dislike that sometimes overruled his common sense. Gaining him as her ally would be a challenge, but they were already on a good way. Soon Robert would help her of his own volition and not because his father had ordered him to.

"What did they find?" Ned asked curiously.

"Remnants of bright green color on his scalp," she told them. "And there is one particular city on the other side of the Narrow Sea, where the people love to color their hair in such bright colors."

"Tyrosh," Robert growled. He knew those particular bastards. Their pirates and slavers had tried more than once to attack small villages and farms close to the coast of the Stormlands. They are a constant plague that will always haunt them.

"And there is only one place in this city that offers them sanctuary. The rundown harbor whorehouse," Senna told them.

Robert smirked all of a sudden, but Ned looked even more reluctant than before. Cloak and dagger was one thing, visiting whorehouses obviously were not his idea of fun. Improper for the son of a great lord. His friend had no such quarrels. He was obviously very eager to explore another whorehouse of the city. As far as Senna knew, he had already honored half of the others with his patronage.

"So Ned and I will go and visit that… thrice damned establishment and see what we can find out," Robert said with a grin. This was obviously the moment he began liking this all.

"Oh, I'll be there as well," Senna told him.

The sudden look of outrage on their faces was most amusing. Apparently it was good and acceptable for a noble-born son to go anywhere near a whorehouse, but as soon as you are born with the wrong gender, things get a whole lot more complicated.

"Oh, no you won't," Robert shot back, "My father would have my hide for this."

"Good thing he will never find out then," Senna told him smugly, "No one will see me, not even you."

"I said no," Robert put his foot down, not that it would have done him any good. There was a sense of mischief in her green eyes. And it wasn't caused by the magic she had employed to change their color. In most other situations he would have liked to hear about whatever dastardly scheme she had come up with, but not in this case.

"Now you see me," Senna said, as she made some motion with her hand, "and now you don't." And with that, she vanished from sight.

Robert and Ned nearly fell off their chairs, when she suddenly disappeared. Had they not seen it with their own eyes. She was gone, completely. As if she had never been in this room with them. This had to be magic, what else could it be?

"Surprised?" she laughed loudly.

They nearly jumped again, when they heard her disembodied voice from where she had sat before.

"You enjoy this far more than you did in the past, my dear," Death whispered.

She only smirked smugly in return, not that anyone would have seen it. And of course, Death was correct. She enjoyed shocking them a little. To act like a Marauder. If only for these few precious moments, when she could be just Dorea, a no-name girl in this big city and not Senna Peverell, the future queen of the entire realm. And with the three Hollows as a constant part of her being, some of their effects are useful in more ways than one.

"How are you doing this?" Ned asked.

Robert had stood up and walked around the table to the chair she had inhabited before. He tried to reach for her, but before he could feel anything, Senna hit him in the gut with her elbow.

"Don't think that I will allow you to grope my chest, Robert Baratheon. That's off limits to you, so stay put!" She told him strongly.

"I would never..." Robert sputtered indignantly. But when she laughed happily, he realized that she was mocking him. "Wench!" He growled though he had to laugh as well.

"Let's go. My servants can't keep my absence hidden for long," Senna urged them, once they had calmed down again. Ned and Robert agreed and left quickly. They may not like their current task, but both would do it, for the sake of duty. And a bit of curiosity as well.

* * *

"You've sent for me, father," Rhaegar said, as he stood opposite of the king.

The prince wasn't happy to be here. Actually, he would much rather be as far away from Aerys Targaryen as possible. But he could not leave, not as long as his own family was still within this madman's grasp. His mother, his brother, his future wife, all under the control of this man. It was unbearable.

Rhaegar did not like this situation that they all were in, but he knew better than to make an open move so soon. But he would bide his time and play the obedient and loyal son… to some extent at least. There are things he would never do for this man… but denying Aerys would force his own hand...

"We have much to discuss, Rhaegar. Site down," Aerys barked, a strange gleam in his eyes, as he looked upon his son. "Tell me, are the preparations for your wedding proceeding as planned?"

Rhaegar sat down on the recliner opposite of his father, before he said, "We are well enough following the schedule. There are some minor problems, but nothing that would disrupt the preparations. The city guard is lamenting that they lack the sufficient numbers to keep the city safe during this event, though. But Lord Tywin has allocated funds to pay for the additional manpower and equipment needed."

He had anticipated that his father would wish to talk about this topic. He cared for little else these days. He was entirely focused on binding Senna to his House. At least the Hand of the King welcomed this, now that this allowed him free reign over the realm, without the king interfering at every step.

"Good. Make sure that all our so called vassals understand that their attendance is not optional. All will witness our moment of triumph!" Aerys said before he cackled darkly.

Again this talk about triumph. Just what delusions did his father follow these days? He had searched in all the tomes and scrolls that told the history of House Targaryen and though the Peverells were mentioned several times, their involvement with his own family could hardly be described as a major conflict. But his father treated this as if this was the end of a long blood feud.

"Just why are you so obsessed with this matter?" Rhaegar asked. "I can understand that you see a royal wedding as an important event in the history of our family, but your obsession with Lady Senna is already causing a lot of stir at court."

"Let those feeble-minded bastards talk, Rhaegar. A dragon has no need to justify his actions to those beneath him," Aerys growled before he stood up to fetch something. He returned with a piece of jewelry, a necklace, a golden chain and a pendant with an intricately carved red gem. "Give this to your betrothed. Tell her that it is time to get even for past transgressions."

"Again you speak in riddles," Rhaegar said, as his annoyance rose. "Is there a special meaning behind this necklace?"

"Do as you are told," the king simply ordered, before he made a dismissive gesture with his hand.

It was obvious that this meeting was over, but it had only served to confuse the prince even more. And it had ruled out even the last doubts that his father had lost his mind. Just what was that man planning? And what was the deal with this necklace?

"I hope you know what you are doing, father. Our situation is precarious enough as it is," Rhaegar muttered under his breath.

He sighed deeply. Maybe he would have to speed up his plans. His wedding would see all great lords in Westeros in the same place… a situation just as worrying as it was promising. Maybe he should Lord Tywin a visit. No matter what, he would need his support for his plans to succeed.

* * *

"Ouch," Robert cursed loudly, as the servant pressed a wet cloth against his bruised and bloody temple.

"Stop whining like a big baby and sit still. Lanna will clean the wound and the salves will heal it in no time at all," Senna commanded, visibly amused by this.

They sat in her own rooms now, this time with her actually looking as she usually did. Their little trip to the whorehouse had been rather eventful, especially when Robert started a fight with some Tyroshi sailors. So now he had to be patched up as good as possible before the wrong people would start asking questions.

"Just what is this stuff? It stinks..." Robert lamented, as a look of revulsion spread on his face, as he took the small jar that stood next to Lann and sniffed at it.

"It helps you heal much faster. Or do you want to have to explain to your father why you were brawling with sailors in a rundown whorehouse?" Senna shot back.

"As if he would care," Robert bit back another curse, as Senna's servant finished cleaning his wounds.

"I still can't believe that you punched that big guy in the face," Ned lamented, as he sat a bit away from his friend. Senna remembered the look of surprise on the young Stark's face when Robert threw the first punch.

"I only punched him because I did not have any weapons on me at that moment," Robert defended himself. "And I won the fight, didn't I? So stop complaining."

He won, alright. But in the much larger fight that followed his grand victory against the drunk Tyroshi sailor, a fire started, which destroyed the whole building. It was pure luck that they got out mostly unscathed… and unseen by the city guard, which had arrived on the scene to detain every single man and woman that escaped the burning building.

"Be glad that I've managed to search the place before you tore it down," Senna told him, as she placed something on the table in the middle of the room.

It was a role of parchment, rolled up and slightly singed by the fire. Usually, she wouldn't have cared for it at all, had she not recognized the broken wax seal, as she searched the room of a Tyroshi captain. There wasn't much left of the seal now, thanks to the heat of the flames, but she was sure that she had seen it before.

Robert was the first to jump up and grab the role, despite Lanna's feeble protests, who had just begun to use the salve to heal his wounds. But as the heir of Storm's End looked at the words written on the role, his face morphed from wonder to anger in a matter of seconds.

"Useless shit. Who would ever be able to read this?" he thundered, as he returned to his seat and allowed the slightly intimidated woman to continue.

Mero was the next to pick it up, but even he could only frown, "I know that the Tyroshi have bastardized the Valyrian language even more than we did, but this is just unintelligible."

"It is a Valyrian dialect, but one only spoken by the scum of the Stepstones," Senna told them.

"More pirates," Robert spat.

Senna nodded. Ever since the last Blackfyre had been killed, the Stepstones had once more turned into a hive of scum and villainy. And now someone had hired these fools to kill her. Not the most subtle thing to do.

"This is a dead end, Senna," Mero said, as he shook his head, "This won't change anything and it proves nothing."

"I know," she conceded. She couldn't tell them about the seal. At least not until she had found out whom it belongs to. And even then, it might be a dead end as well. No one would be stupid enough to use his own House seal to sign orders such as this. "But it does prove one thing. They target me because of my powers."

"Then turn them into dogs or something. It's not like you don't have the power to do it," Robert barked. "But you still owe me that drink you promised."

"It is not that easy, Robert. I can do many things, but transfiguring a human being is a very complex piece of magic," Senna told him.

"But you don't deny that you are able to do it!" he accused with a grin.

She smiled and shrugged, neither denying nor admitting anything. And Robert was kind of predictable and it had only been a matter of time before he would demand alcohol. And she had promised it.

"Alia," she called for her other servant, "fetch me a bottle of Firewhiskey. And another vial of the Hangover Potion."

"Hangover Potion? So that is the stuff you left on my bedside table?"

"It worked, didn't it?" she smirked impishly, as she looked at him.

Robert let out a barking laugh, as he answered, "That it did. Wish I had that stuff before. Would have spared me a lot of pain and regrets. But what is it?"

"A potion. A special remedy to deal with the unwanted consequences of a long night of debauchery," Senna answered him.

"Be grateful, Baratheon, Senna creates them herself and is very reluctant to hand it out to just any random drunk," Mero told him gruffly. "The rich and powerful in Myr offered great fortunes to get the recipe, but she is the only one who knows how to make potions of this kind.

Robert and Ned looked surprised, as they heard that Senna was the one who creates these potions. It was just so hard to reconcile this with the impression of the proud lady that would be their queen one day.

Mero, on the other hand, looked smugly at them in return, "Did you really think that it was just her birthright that has earned her the love of the people of Myr? Senna has created a great many different potions and salves to help the people with their ailments. She could have earned a fortune, but she never demanded any form of compensation for her help."

"I already have more gold than I could spend in ten lifetimes, Mero," Senna chided lightly.

"You are a healer, milady?" Ned asked her, obviously intrigued by this.

Senna smiled softly as she shook her head, "I am not. I lack the knowledge needed to heal. I am more of a… herbalist. And helping my people to survive is my calling."

_"The insane wish to help others, even when it harms you in the process," Death whispered mockingly in her ear. "Always self-sacrificing, right, Senna?"_

"That is very honorable, milady..." Ned said, but he stopped abruptly when the door of the room opened and Prince Rhaegar entered.

All eyes in the room were focused on the prince, who looked at them just as surprised. "Am I interrupting something here," Rhaegar asked.

"Rhaegar, how nice to see you. Come, please sit with us," Senna invited him jovially, but her betrothed seemed hesitant to stay for long.

"Actually, I had hoped that you would join me for a walk in the gardens, milady," he said calmly, his eyes never leaving her.

Senna was hesitant at first. She did not wish to insult her guests by absconding with the prince. But Rhaegar had not sought her out like this before, so she was indeed curious, why he had come.

"I believe our business is concluded here, Lady Senna," Robert said, his voice strained.

He took the bottle of Firewhiskey from Senna's servant and left without another word or any sign of the respect he should have shown the prince. If this had bothered Rhaegar, he had not shown it. Ned was more proper and bowed lightly before he ran after his friend.

"I am sorry for breaking up your… get together," the prince said, as he looked both curious and conflicted at the same time. The look on his face was almost adorable, Senna mused idly.

"Think nothing of it. We had concluded our business and were about to go our separate ways when you entered," Senna told him before she walked over to him. "So, you wished to take me for a walk? I'm all yours for now."

A small smile played on his lips, as he offered his arm to her, which she took graciously. So he leads her away from her rooms. Mero, Ser Arthur, and Prince Leywn followed them in some distance.

The latter even caught Rhaegar's attention, "So I see that my father has granted you the honor of Kingsguard protection."

"Yes. He was quite adamant that my own guards are insufficient," she could hear Mero growl behind her, but no one paid him much attention, "But I am glad to say that Prince Lewyn has been marvelous company so far." Though that was a matter of interpretation. He had not butted into her business and kept a polite distance to whatever she does. He had not even demanded to be allowed inside her rooms during her earlier meeting. It earned him some favor from her. If the man was spying on her for the king, he was at least subtle about it.

"You will find that the knights of the Kingsguard are the finest in the realm. No harm will befall you in their care," Rhaegar told her.

Neither of them dared to say out loud that these knights might just as well be their most dangerous enemies. They were oath-bound to serve the king and should Aerys Targaryen choose to command them, the knights would bound to attack, no matter how they might feel about that.

Soon enough they had reached the gardens, where they could enjoy some more privacy than the inside of the keep, where all the walls have eyes and ears. Not to mention that Senna felt more at ease here, something that Rhaegar had already figured out.

"You have become quite friendly with the heir of Storm's End," Rhaegar mentioned, though he tried his best to feign disinterest.

"Jealous, my prince?"

"Is there need to be concerned?" he asked her, his eyes challenging her to answer.

She laughed lightly in amusement and shook her hand. "Don't worry about Robert. He will never touch me," she assured him. "Lord Steffon has tasked Robert with my safety and now he assists Mero with the hunt for the assassins."

Rhaegar looked obviously pleased by her answer. He did not comment on it, but just the smirk on his lips was enough to reveal his true feelings. It was plainly obvious that he would not be willing to share her, not that Senna would have wanted that. She just hoped that he would be just as faithful himself as he expected her to be. However, she was no fool and she knew that very few men in this world were truly faithful… she really did not wish to ponder this any further.

"So, Rhaegar, why did you wish to speak to me?"

"Is it wrong of me to spend time with my betrothed?" He asked her in return.

"Are you trying to charm me, my dear prince?" she smirked challengingly at him, as he looked down on her.

"Maybe I am," he replied, as he leaned down and captured her lips in a brief kiss. "Is it working?"

His boldness surprised Senna, though she was quite glad that he was trying to improve their relationship. He had been rather passive after the attempt on her life and in return, she was quite confused and wondered just how little she really meant to him. He had said that he wants a partner, something that would not require any sort of deeper emotional bond, but to her, it would have been unbearable to bring children into a marriage that was little more than a business deal.

"Well, my charming prince, I do believe that we will get along splendidly if you keep this up," Senna replied, as she smiled warmly at him.

They continued on in silence after this, though Senna did walk closer to him than before. Rhaegar was obviously pleased by this outcome, as it allowed him to hold her by his side for some more time. But little did Senna know, that there was another reason for the prince's visit.

"I have something for you," Rhaegar said, as Ser Arthur approached them with something in his hands. As the knight handed it to the prince, she saw that it was a golden necklace. But the necklace could not keep her attention, but rather the pendant on it. "My father wanted you to have this, though I am not sure about his intentions."

Just the mention of Aerys Targaryen made her wary of the necklace itself, but she also knew that the man knew no magic. No one in Westeros did, at least she thought so. So there was little chance for the jewelry to be cursed. Not that it would have eased her worry. Despite his madness, Aerys was obviously still crafty. But after a closer look at the jewel, she gasped in surprise.

"This pendant..."

"You know it?" Rhaegar was very curious about her reaction, as it was obvious that he was the only one not privy to some very important facts here. And it annoyed him visibly.

"This is… not, it's a replica. A well-made replica. The original has never left Valyria, I'm sure of it," she muttered, as she touched the pendant, her hands softly exploring every carving on the stone. "I've only seen drawings of the original, but this is truly marvelous..."

"But what is it, my dear? You know it, my father obviously knows it, but I lack some important knowledge here," Rhaegar told her softly. It was a demand for her to elaborate, even if it did not sound like that.

She smiled at him, as he looked a bit like Viserys when he had demanded to sit on her lap to pet Fawkes. The same pout for the brothers. However, should she call it a pout in front of either of them, their Targaryen pride would not suffer such indignity and they would most vehemently reject any such notion.

"This is the pendant of Senna Belaerys. Whereas her sister, Jaenara, is credited with the exploration of the continent Sothoryos in the south, Senna is only remembered in the chronicles of House Peverell and House Targaryen… as the woman who had single-handedly ended the centuries-old friendship between the Targaryens and Peverells. In all the books I've read about my family's past, her name is uttered in hatred and revulsion," Senna explained.

Senna could see that this was obviously new to the prince. It surprised her. She had been told that Rhaegar had been rather bookish in his earlier years, so she had expected him to know about the beginnings of the feud their families had fought for so long. Unless he had no access to the older stories… She would have to find out and rectify this, if necessary.

"I see why your father would send me this replica..." she smiled sardonically, "Senna Belaerys began the conflict… Senna Peverell is here to end it. Or is it meant as an insult? I chose House Targaryen, just like the reviled daughter of House Belaerys… we both bring House Peverell loss and defeat..."

Aerys was obviously still very much capable of finding ways to hurt her. Not physically, he would never be able to do that, but this pendant… it's blood red stone was like an open wound and the longer she looked at it, the more it threatened to hurt. It was a reminder of how her decision had doomed her ancient family to follow the path of all the other Dragonlords into obscurity.

Rhaegar saw the troubled look on her face and took the pendant from her. With one last look at the strange piece of jewelry, he quickly handed it back to Ser Arthur. "Get rid of it," he told the knight simply, who nodded and placed it back in a pocket. They would make sure that neither this nor any other replicas of this necklace would ever get close to Senna ever again.

"Will you tell me more about this?" the prince prodded further. Despite everything, he would never be able to leave the bookish and curious little prince behind.

"Of course," Senna replied. It wasn't her favorite story. Far from it. But it was the first story her parents had told her when she had been barely two years old. So she would understand why they had named her Senna… to this day she had no idea what they had meant by this and their deaths had made it impossible to get that answer now. Even the powers of the Resurrection Stone could not offer her a chance to find this closure.

"I will make this brief, but if you wish for it, I will lend you a copy of my family's chronicle, so you can study it yourself," he nodded but said nothing. So she continued, "In the days of glory when Valyria grew and the dragonlords reigned like gods, the Houses Targaryen and Peverell had been steadfast allies and tied by blood and friendship. In fact, we share quite a few ancestors. Neither of our houses was considered very powerful, they were small, but respected for their skilled warriors and dragon riders."

"Yet all that changed," Rhaegar said. He looked surprised by her claim, so far he had only read tidbits about a constant conflict, but nothing about a former friendship of their houses.

"It ended with the woman they later called the whore of Tyria. She was supposed to be wed to Aenor Peverell, heir to House Peverell at his time. But she was not happy with the bride price paid for her, calling it an insult. So she sought out the heir of House Targaryen, Baelor, and seduced him. With the promise of six dragon eggs, she won over the Targaryens and earned her family trice the amount of gold and jewels for her hand."

"What a charming person. I know at least half a dozen ladies her at court who would be inspired by her actions," Rhaegar muttered.

Senna laughed lightly, as she understood his reasons. Before she had arrived, the noble ladies in Westeros had all but dishonored themselves, just to become his bride. Senna Belaerys was very much the same. Or at least she was described that way by the scholars of House Peverell.

"Aenor and Baelor had been friends since childhood, close as brothers, but Senna's actions had damaged their friendship beyond repair," she sighed sadly, "Aenor felt insulted by the actions of his best friend. Worse yet, to him, this was a betrayal of the worst kind. Senna had been supposed to be his, but Baelor bedded her none the less... Some claim, however, that Senna had been a witch and that Baelor had been changed by her..." she almost cringed as she said this. She wasn't sure whether this Senna had been a Valyrian witch, but the irony in all of this was obvious, "but his actions had lead to the end of his friendship with Aenor. Accusations were made, followed by insults and finally open conflict. According to history, both Aenor and Baelor fought on the backs of their dragons. Over the raging ocean they battled for three days, before their dragons, mortally wounded, dropped into the black sea, killing the riders in the process. After that… utter madness followed."

"Sounds much like my own family's more recent history. Blood and madness are obviously the legacies of Valyria," Rhaegar muttered. "But we will put an end to the feud."

Senna smiled warmly at him, "Yes. One conflict will end, but the others..." She wasn't sure whether this would be right moment to tell him about the prophecy and the looming threat beyond the Wall. But she decided against it. It was too soon and their relationship was still too fragile to test it with such outrageous claims. It would doom their blossoming relationship to be little more than a necessity for the survival of the world. Her lives had been dictated by prophecies, at least this moment of peace and happiness should be hers and hers alone.

Rhaegar looked almost fondly at her, as he stroked her cheek, "I wish to build a better future, for us and for the people under my rule. I know we both have far too many secrets that need to be revealed before we can honestly speak of trust, but rest assured, whatever the future may bring, we will face it together."

His words were comforting and reassured her that he decision to wed him was right. This was Rhaegar Targaryen, the honorable prince, the future of this realm. This man had nothing of his father's cruelty. And she was sure that it wouldn't be too hard to love him… one day… maybe.

* * *

It had been late at night when his father had sent for him. Luckily he had not yet been asleep, better yet, he had just returned from a rather enjoyable evening in a local whorehouse. Not that his father would need to hear about this particular pastime of his.

"You've sent for me, father," he said dutifully, as he entered his father's solar.

His father, the proud and honorable Rickard Stark, sat behind his desk, reading a letter in the dim light of the candles around him. Maester Walys stood close to him, half hidden in the shadows, as usual.

"Brandon, still up this late at night?" his father asked him.

"Sleep eluded me, so I was out to train with my sword," Brandon lied easily, as he stood before his father's desk. "So, what can I do for you?"

His father looked at him for some long moments, as if he was judging him. But Brandon noted that his father seemed deeply worried. He looked older, burdened by something.

"You will attend the royal wedding in my stead," Lord Rickard stated simply. "The king has all but ordered all his vassals to attend the wedding of Prince Rhaegar and some myrish noble, however, I can't afford the time to attend such idle nonsense."

This was obviously more than just a dislike for the southron pomp and need for self-adulation, so Brandon prodded, "Has something happened?"

"A letter from the Lord Commander of the Nightswatch," his father raised the paper in his hand, so Brandon could see it. But he did not hand it over, "Winter is on our doorstep, Brandon and even the black brothers at the Wall need help. Too much is happening beyond the Wall and I need to attend to that."

"If the Wildlings start causing trouble again, send me and shall end their threat. All I need are a thousand able-bodied men and plenty of good steel, then we will send the Wildlings back into the caves they've crawled out of," Brandon said hotly. It would be much better than watching some pompous prince getting wed and he longed for a good fight.

"No, my son. I need you to go south. You will pay a visit to Riverrun to get to know your future wife," Rickard frowned when he saw the cross look on Brandon's face as he mentioned his betrothed, "And you will do your utmost to make Catelyn Tully and her family like you. Our alliance with the Riverlands is very important for the North. Don't mess this up."

"Of course, father..." Brandon grit his teeth as he heard this.

He had no interest in marrying some spoiled southern girl. They are petty and frail, nothing like the strong and fierce women of the North. His own sister was the best example for that. Wild, untamed. With the beauty of their people and not the shallow looks of the Andal invaders. Yet he was cursed to marry a Tully and his sister would be sold to some lording in the Stormlands. One way or another, Maester Walys would pay for this. Brandon was no fool, he knew that the Hightower bastard had whispered these poisonous ideas into his father's ears for years.

"You will surely like the young lady in Riverrun. Beautiful and passionate, that is how she has been described to us. She will surely be to your liking," Maester Walys said silkily.

Brandon almost sneered at the sneaky man. He had little good to say about this Maester… or all Maesters for the matter. He disliked their influence on all noble houses in Westeros and Walys especially had an unnaturally strong influence on his father. He had no proof for foul play, but that did not mean that he would allow this man the chance to backstab his family. Time… time would provide him with a chance to rid himself of this man.

"And you will take Lyanna with you. Gods know that she needs to get away from Winterfell for some time, or else she will do something that we all might regret," his father said wearily.

A smirk formed on Brandon's lips as he heard this. It was a reason to feel smug. He and his sister both were wild and free, unlike their brothers, Eddard, and Benjen. Of course, Lyanna would strife to break free from the chains her father would try to put on her. She was no lady, she was a wild wolf, just like him. And now his father hoped that he would take Lyanna to her future husband, knowing that otherwise they would likely have to chain her and drag her there.

He shook his head. The passion from his earlier trip had left his blood boiling and as long as this would continue, his decisions would be dangerous. "Any news about Eddard," Brandon asked, to distract himself.

"He is already waiting for you in King's Landing," Rickard replied, "His friendship to the heir of Storm's End has lead him there and judging by his last letter, they have somehow ended up in the service of Prince Rhaegar's betrothed."

"Oh really?" This was most curious. Eddard had rarely shown much interest in politics, so he following a foreign noble into the dragon's lair was quite the surprise.

"No matter what happens, Brandon, keep in mind that you will represent not just our family, but all of the North during your stay in King's Landing. You may join the lists in their tourney and attend their gatherings, but do not bring shame upon us again. Your folly with a northern girl was hard enough to cover up, but in the south, even our influence won't protect you."

Of course, his father had to bring up Barbrey again. He would always remind him of his… supposed mistake with the Ryswell girl. He had done nothing wrong, she was willing and not married at that time. But to his father, this would always be a stain on House Stark's honor.

"I will be on my best behavior," Brandon promised.

"Good. You may go to sleep now," his father dismissed him. Brandon was in no mood to argue, so he complied and went to leave. But before he had reached the door, his father called out to him once more, "And Brandon, tonight was your last visit to that brothel. One more time and I will have the place burned to the ground, is that clear?"

"Yes, father," he replied through grit teeth.

"Hate me if you will, but our honor is more important than our lust. Never forget."

Brandon did not answer, instead, he stormed out of the room. He may love his father, but in times like this, even he was hard pressed to find any positive thoughts about this man. Honorable and stubborn... In the end, he would comply with his father's orders… within reason, at least.


	6. Customs

"That man is Jon Arryn, Lord of the Vale and the Warden of the East," Rhaegar told her, as they watched the endless line of lords and ladies, who had come to present themselves to the king.

The prince and his bride to be sat on smaller thrones, next to the king's monstrosity, as they had to be present for this show of falsity and submission to a man, who had long lost all the respect he demanded here. It was almost too easy to tell, how dark their thoughts really were, as they stood before the king and spoke of honor and loyalty. She had no need for mind magic, to reveal their true intentions. Their eyes betrayed them easily enough.

"So this is the man who has raised Robert and Eddard," Senna muttered, as she watched the old lord, as he bowed lightly before King Aerys. Robert spoke highly of this man and Eddard had more than once shown, that he saw this man as a shining example of how any lord should act.

"Lord Arryn is well respected, but the Vale has been rather passive in the last few decades. I've been told that my father is highly suspicious of this lord," Rhaegar whispered. Those were words that not even he would dare to say out loud in this keep. His father's temper would be most volatile, should he hear that his son had told anyone about this.

Senna watched the old lord further, as he exchanged hollow words with the king and introduced his heir. A nephew. She nodded as she understood, the young man, who looked barely older than her, was here to see the true face of the realm before he would take his uncle's place. The boy was just here to listen, not to say or do anything. But he watched her curiously. When she smiled at him, he averted his gaze quickly, blushing slightly, much to her amusement. Luckily, neither his uncle nor the king had seen this.

Soon enough the Arryns left, much to Senna's relief. It would give her a chance to stretch her legs before the next guests would arrive. They came from all corners of the realm, but no one could tell when they all would arrive. But the king had ordered for her and Rhaegar to be present and so they complied.

"I'll go and take a walk, Rhaegar," Senna told the prince, as she stood up.

"I will accompany..." Rhaegar was about to say when his father called him. The prince sighed, as he looked towards the throne, "It would appear I cannot go with you."

"We will have plenty of time to stroll in the gardens and talk, Rhaegar," Senna told him. She gave him a supportive smile before she turned to leave the throne room, leaving her husband to be at the mercy of his insane father. But she had no reason to worry about him, Rhaegar was capable enough to protect himself if necessary.

At first, she was on her way back to the gardens, but decided against it, when she heard some of the servants gossips about the many knights and noblemen, who had gone there to boast and squabble. She had no mind for these kinds of people.

So she stayed within the walls of the keep and simply wandered through the long corridors, as she tried to remember all the names and faces, of the people she had met so far. The old Lord Arryn and his nephew had been only one of several groups who had come to announce their presence.

Before them the Tyrells had come, lead by the overeager Lord Mace Tyrell, the young ruler of the realms most prosperous region. He and his sisters had come, dressed and behaved like the picture perfect nobles they were supposed to be. Not a spot of dirt on the hems of their clothes, not a single hair out of its intended place. They were so perfect in that sense, that Senna couldn't bring herself to listen to this lordlings narcissistic blather. She was happy enough when King Aerys, in righteous annoyance, sent them on their way.

It had been more interesting, when the Hand of the King, Lord Tywin Lannister, stepped forward from the crowd, two children in his tow, to introduce them to court. Or at least to introduce the boy. Apparently the girl, Cersei, had been at court all along, though Senna had not seen her so far. But the son, Jaime, had just arrived with his uncles. Golden-haired, like all Lannisters, the boy stood there, head held high in unending pride.

When the boy looked at her, it was almost as if he wanted to challenge her with his look. The cocky smirk on his lips only intensified that notion later on. It was almost amusing to look at. But his sister was different in that regard. There was hot fury in her eyes, as she looked at Senna. The profound dislike was painstakingly obvious and many more would have noticed it, had her father not whispered something in her direction. Lord Tywin seemed obviously displeased with his daughter and the frown he had shown would not waver for days to come.

When Senna spoke to Rhaegar about this curious behavior, the prince laughed lightly and tried to soothe her worried mind. Apparently Lord Tywin had tried time and time again to marry Cersei to a member of the royal family, preferably the heir to the throne. That was out of the question now. Yet it would seem that young Cersei was not willing to accept that.

"Well, well. What do we have here?"

Senna was surprised, when she almost ran into a man, as she left the main gate of the Red Keep. She had been so in thought, that she had not even looked where she was going. Her guards had not commented on it either. But now the men were on high alert. Mero, especially, pushed her behind him, his hand on the hilt of his sword.

"Oberyn!" Mero growled.

Senna's eyes widened, as she realized that this was indeed the man she had met a few years before. The memories of that time were not of the fondest sort… For Mero, it was even worse.

"Lady Senna, your beauty is just as radiant as the day I had left your estates to return to Sunspear," Oberyn said smoothly, ignoring Mero completely.

Senna said nothing at first, instead she studied his appearance. The same dark hair, the viper like black eyes and sharp nose. There was no doubt. This was indeed the charmer she had befriended for a short time…

"You are a Martell!" Mero spat, "So much for the traveling Dornish knight! Only lies and treachery."

"Ah, my lady, your guard dog is as vicious as he had been in the past," Oberyn continued, his eyes still not leaving Senna.

Senna frowned, as she remembered just why she was glad when this man had left Myr. "Oberyn… here to represent Dorne, I presume."

"Indeed. My dear brother has trouble with his health. Nothing too serious, but enough to detain him from coming here. So my lovely sister and I have come in his stead… to attend your wedding. I haven't been more surprised than the day they told me that the Jewel of Myr has come to wed a Targaryen. I was sure those magisters would never allow you out of their sight for long." He chuckled as if he had just made a joke only he could truly understand.

Senna's attention wandered towards the woman, who stood a few feet behind Oberyn. She was, to say it with Mero's words, a delicate beauty. The warm coloring of the Rhoynar, with the same sharp features that her brother sported. There was no doubt that she was related to Oberyn, though she looked much more cautious and composed.

When she realized that Senna was looking at her, the woman stepped forward to introduce herself, "My name is Elia, milady. Elia of House Nymeros Martell. It is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance."

There was a calmness in her voice that was almost soothing. So different from Oberyn's mocking drawl. Her smile was kinder as well and despite her wariness of the brother, Senna decided that she might quite like talking more to Elia.

"I am happy to meet you, though it would be better… without him here," Senna had no intention to hide her disdain for Oberyn, though the Dornish prince only grinned wider.

Elia seemed almost amused by her reaction to Oberyn, almost as if this wasn't the first time this had happened. "So what has my dear brother done to earn your ire?"

"Oh, he hasn't done anything to me," Senna assured her, "But he had the gall to bed a dear friend of mine, in my house, despite orders to stay away. He made the guards believe that I was the target of his feeble attempts at seduction, so most of them were busy guarding my chambers. He dishonored Trianna, who had come from Volantis for an arranged marriage with the son of another magister. And the moment the deed was done, he disappeared into the night, leaving nothing but trouble and a pregnant girl behind."

Elia sighed deeply as she heard this. Oberyn merely shrugged. But judging by the reaction of the Martell siblings, this was obviously a common occurrence.

"At least he had the decency to come and take care of the babe when the mother died in childbirth," Senna spat bitterly. It had saddened her, when the message from Volantis had reached her, telling her of Trianna's death. The girl had been with her for little over a year and would have stayed at least a year or two more before her wedding would happen. "How is her daughter, by the way?"

Oberyn smirked triumphantly, as Senna's attention shifted back to him, "Wonderful. She is at the Water Gardens, growing up with all the other little ones. She is such a happy child, my little Nymeria."

Nymeria… Senna had not been told what name they had given the girl. But this name was clearly Dornish or at the very least dear to the Martells. She wouldn't put it past Oberyn to simply rename the child as soon as he had claimed her.

"Enough of the troublesome past," Oberyn said, "This is a happy occasion, is it not? Your grand wedding to the not so grand Targaryen prince."

"Careful with your words here, Oberyn. I may have found your barbs and crude talk amusing when you had been my guest in Myr, but this is not my estate and the people here are not my loyal servants. The walls have eyes and ears in the Red Keep and you should know better than to disparage the king in his own halls, especially when he is known for his ruthlessness." Senna cautioned him. She may not like him, but she would begrudge Aerys any chance to create more misery. And no one deserved to suffer the cruelty of King Aerys Targaryen.

"Duly noted. So, it's been a while since my last visit to this city. Would like to go on a tour of the capital with me..." Oberyn was interrupted, when Mero quickly drew his sword, once more pushing Senna behind him.

"You will keep your distance, honorless dog!" Mero growled as he had his sword at Oberyn's throat.

The guards around them tensed, ready to interfere if necessary. But Oberyn was oddly calm, despite the sharp blade pressing against his flesh.

"Enough, Mero. Stand down!" Senna ordered her friend, her hand on his arm, softly pushing it back. "You can settle your quarrel during the tourney."

Mero complied, albeit hesitantly. Oberyn's mocking smile did not help to diffuse the situation either. Only when Mero stepped back, she realized that Oberyn had been so calm, because of his own dagger piercing the skin under Mero's arm, right where it would pass through the ribs and into the heart. She had not even seen him pull a weapon… the Dornish prince was truly dangerous.

"We will take our leave then," Princess Elia said cordially. "We still have to see the king. It was nice making your acquaintance, Lady Senna. I hope we can talk later… under better circumstances."

"I would be happy to, Princess Elia. I will see when a meeting can be arranged, though I fear that we will have to postpone it until after the wedding," Senna replied. She smiled at the Dornish princess, something that obviously put Elia at ease.

Years later they would likely remember this day and laugh about it. For now, only Senna chuckled when she heard Elia berate her brother harshly, as soon as she thought they were out of earshot. She certainly liked the first impression of this woman, so Senna hoped that Oberyn would not ruin their relationship through another folly. And if he did… she would have to transfigure him into something nasty… maybe a ferret, worked wonders in the past if she remembered correctly.

* * *

It was later that day, when all nobles had arrived, that Senna sat in her chambers. It had been a long day… too long for her taste. Filled with meeting new people, some she disliked already. But she wouldn't bother with men she would never see again once the wedding is over. Instead, she pondered another matter that she would have to address soon. Her powers. Aerys, Robert, and Eddard, three already knew about what she could do, not counting the people who knew her from Myr. Rhaegar had a right to know who… and what he was about to marry. But that was easier said than done.

But he had to know. She was aware that it would be wrong to put this off for any longer, so she mustered her resolve and went out to search for her husband to be… She sighed. Less than a day and they would be husband and wife. An almost surreal idea, but a reality she couldn't run from, even if she wished for it. Not now. She wouldn't run.

Finding Rhaegar was not that difficult for her at all. He may no longer be the bookish little boy she had been told about, but he was still more scholar than a knight. So she found him in his room, studying the book she had given him.

For once it wasn't Ser Arthur who guarded him, but Ser Oswell. The knight knew her, however, and allowed her to enter the prince's chambers unhindered. He seemed almost amused and would have likely found some inappropriate comment, had she stayed long enough to chat with him.

"Senna?" Rhaegar looked quite surprised, as he saw her enter. Maybe he had expected someone else? His mother, perhaps? Then she remembered that this was actually her first visit to her future husband's rooms.

He sat at a table, the book she had given him in his lap.

"Is this a bad time to visit?" Senna asked him lightly, as her eyes roamed the room.

Rhaegar stood up and quickly walked to her side. "You are most welcome, my dear, though I wonder why you are here? You are not having any second thoughts about our wedding?"

Senna smiled lightly, "The day before the big wedding, what is there to be afraid of?"

Rhaegar smiled at her and caressed her cheek lightly, "Even worried you look adorable. But somehow I'm not sure that the wedding is the reason for that."

"You are right," Senna said, as she leaned into his touch, "There is something that you need to know before you willingly take me as your wife." Rhaegar looked curious, just as she had expected, "Rhaegar, what do you know about the powers that allowed Valyria to conquer half of the known world?"

"Is this about the dragon eggs?"

"No, Rhaegar. The dragons are just as small part of a greater power," Senna told him. She took a deep breath and took a step away from him, "Rhaegar, I am not entirely normal. In fact, I'm anything but normal. The truth is… I am a witch. A true, spell flinging Valyrian witch."

Rhaegar just looked at her in stunned silence. The longer he remained silent, the greater her worry grew. What if he wanted to back out now? His father wouldn't let him. They would still marry, but their marriage would likely not be a happy one.

"Can you… can you show me your powers?" Rhaegar finally asked.

There was so much enthusiasm in his expression, that Senna was unsure how to react properly to his wish. She nodded before she raised her hand towards his table and muttered a spell. The prince watched in amazement, as the table morphed into a living and breathing dog. The animal growled at them, but before it could do any harm, Senna returned it to its previous form.

"This is amazing," Rhaegar breathed, as he approached his desk and touched it as if he had to make sure that it was truly just a wooden piece of furniture again. "But how is this possible?"

"Valyria had many secrets. The magic the dragonlords treasured so much is just one of them," Senna told him.

"Are there more like you?"

Senna shrugged, "Maybe," she said, "In theory all those who share the blood of the dragonlords have the potential. However, I've never heard of any others with my skills, so maybe I am the last."

"So I could learn as well?" his childish enthusiasm made her smile, though she would have to crush that dream before it would get too far.

"No," she answered simply, "I said they would have the potential, but for the magic to manifest, it has to be nurtured from a very young age." It wasn't like in her past two lives, where magic was exclusive to a small group of people. Here it was something that a whole race could do if they were trained to do it. "I only learned it because of my father's interest and a Red Priest who was most curious to find out whether I would be able to unlock my potential."

"But our children would be able if you train them?"

"Likely..." she wasn't entirely sure if she wanted to know what he was thinking about now. She would have expected Aerys to talk about breeding this kind of power… but Rhaegar… Maybe he wasn't too different from his father after all.

"No one must know about this!" Rhaegar told her quickly, "They would murder our children in your womb, should they find out how powerful they might become! I will not allow my family to come to harm because of this. So don't tell anyone!"

He was so insistent, that she could only nod. He wasn't greedy for this power, he was worried. Worried about the consequences. It was actually endearing, that he was more concerned about the possible threat to the children they might have than about what she and their future children could do with her powers.

"May I… may I show you something, Rhaegar?" Senna asked him.

"Of course," he replied immediately.

"I need you to trust me. This will be a bit weird at first, but you get used to it after some time. Just give me your hand and whatever happens, don't let go," she said, as she grabbed his hand.

A warm tingle spread through her arm, as Rhaegar squeezed her hand slightly. He smiled at her and waited for whatever she had planned. He didn't even know what she would do, but he trusted her. She promised herself that she wouldn't betray that trust. And before he could even utter a sound, she apparated both of them away.

Her smile widened, as they arrived at their destination. She could hear the sound of water, resounding from the walls around her and saw the light of the glowing crystals she had placed in all corners. It was quite a breathtaking sight, one that she would never get enough of.

Rhaegar seemed surprised, as he walked around, "Where are we?"

"You wouldn't believe me, Rhaegar," she smiled as she saw the look on his face, "We are no longer in King's Landing… in fact, we are not even in Westeros any longer."

"What?"

"We are in Myr… well beneath the city of Myr. These are the vaults beneath my estate, the place where House Peverell has hidden its most precious possessions and most of their treasures."

"And you can only enter with the help of your magic?" Rhaegar asked, obviously intrigued by the idea of such an underground vault. Especially the many chests all around them piqued his interest.

"There are a few ways to enter. Otherwise, my family would have never been able to get in and out. You should know, I am the first Peverell with magic in at least nine generations. I only made it harder for unwanted visitors to enter. This is important, now that I am not around all the time to ensure that no looters try to find this place," Senna explained.

Rhaegar nodded in understanding, as he looked around. "This place is amazing," he exclaimed, as he found one corner of the cavern, where something akin to a study had been built. Large bookshelves, filled with books and scrolls that the prince had never even heard about.

"My little sanctuary. Centuries of knowledge on the magic of my ancestors. All the answers to question no sane person would ever dare to ask," she said. "But tell me, Rhaegar, does this all change how you see me?" She looked at him, expecting some sort of wary answer. Her eyes almost dared him to say anything negative. She was ready to counter any and all fears and prejudices.

"This is… most unusual," Rhaegar said, "But I have to ask, are you able to cast your magic on people? Can you control others, make them your puppets?"

"In theory, it is possible. There are spells to control others, but I've never had the aptitude for that. And from what I know, this kind of magic was frowned upon. You won't even find the scrolls about this here. I've removed all of them, for the sake of those who come after me."

"I see," Rhaegar said simply. "I knew that you had some rather big secrets, Senna. But I never could have expected this. Does it change anything? The answer would be yes. You are an unusual woman, but I have to admit, I would be a fool to choose any other woman."

"Oh really?" Senna asked him curiously.

"Why should I settle for some feeble minded child of a greedy lord, when I can have a true partner, someone equal as queen by my side?"

Senna smirked at him, "Now you are trying to charm me again," she said.

"I don't try, my dear," Rhaegar said, as he walked back to her side, "I consider myself lucky because tomorrow I can claim you as mine and no one else will have you."

"Don't expect me to submit to you," she told him.

"I wouldn't dream of it," he said, as he leaned in to kiss her. "I told you, for what I have planned I need a partner, not a simple bed warmer."

She smirked at him. This had gone better than expected. Or maybe he had been suspicious before and she had only confirmed this for him. Who knows, it wasn't that important. But now that he knew about her greatest secret, she could marry him without feeling guilty for hiding something this important.

"We should head back," Senna told him. Rhaegar seem torn, as it was obvious that he would prefer to stay and study the books and scrolls, but he knew that she was right. They would be missed soon. "There is only one more thing I have to fetch. Can't marry you without keeping my side of the bargain."

* * *

Weddings in Westeros were obviously not that different from those in Myr, Senna noted, as she stood next to Rhaegar in the Great Sept of Baelor. Dressed in the finest silks, burdened with more jewelry than she would have ever cared to wear, she felt more like a damn Christmas tree than a woman who was about to make one of the most important decisions in her life.

But what else could she say, other than the expected words at the appointed time? Of course, one could say that the displeased looks that the High Septon shot her way every now and then were quite the curious sight, though those who had been present during her last visit to the Sept could easily understand the man's aversion. Senna didn't care much for him, so she merely smiled pleasantly and ignored the Septon entirely. He was just another priest, speaking prayers that were similarly worded to those she had learned in Myr and in her past lives. He invoked different gods for their blessing, to Senna, however, it made little different if the gods in question are seven, red or just a black goat. None of it mattered. Only the future she would have to face, as soon as she was bound to the man next to her.

She had to admit that Rhaegar looked quite dashing and she couldn't keep her mind from wondering how he would look without his fancy clothes… she may not love him, but she wasn't blind. She knew that Rhaegar was definitely amongst the better-looking men she had met in her lives. At least compared to the mortal men she had met.

Then the moment came when Rhaegar draped the mantle in the colors of his House around her shoulders, a symbol to show to the gods and the world where she belonged now. The High Septon continued his chant, his voice strong and dark when he cursed all those who would dare to split her and her husband up. This marriage would literally be until death would part them… which she knew Death would do sooner rather than later, he was a downright bastard in that regard. It was so unlike to the fickle relationships in her second her life or the marriage in her first, where separation was possible but uncommon. No, in this world she would have to remain and endure… she hoped that marrying Rhaegar had been the right choice. Only time would tell.

A kiss finally sealed the vows they had made before the gods and the giant bells around the Sept began to ring loudly. It was final, upon this moment, House Peverell had ceased to exist and the last daughter of their blood had become a Targaryen. Senna knew that she should mourn this tragedy, but as all the guests in the Sept celebrated their new princess and the people in the streets began to cheer, she allowed herself to enjoy the moment.

As Rhaegar led her out of the Sept, they passed the many nobles. The king and the queen were the first to follow them. Both seemed genuinely happy on this day, though Senna was sure that their reasons were as different as day and night. Aerys considered himself the winner of an ancient feud… and the queen could rest assured that the burden of preserving the Targaryen bloodline was no longer solely hers alone.

Then she saw Robert, who scowled lightly, not that she would have expected anything else. But with him were both of his parents and another boy, whom she had only met briefly. Robert's younger brother, Stannis, who lacked all of the lust for life that Robert was overflowing with. He only clapped politely but showed no real emotions. At least Lord Steffon and his wife seemed quite happy.

But she ignored all the lords and ladies, she ignored the veiled glares and greedy minds around her. Instead, she enjoyed her day and the cheers of the people, as she and Rhaegar left the Sept. These people, her people, had so much faith in her, even though she had done so little for them. All they knew were the stories from Myr and now they hoped that she would rule them like she had supposedly ruled her people in the Free City.

She would, however, remember this moment forever. When the countless people cheered for her, a cheer that was also a cry for help, for salvation. Never before had she experienced this and she was sure that she would not experience this again.

The feast later one was an even grander affair than the ceremony in the Great Sept and Senna was quite sure that King Aerys had emptied one of his large vaults entirely, just to make this day memorable for everyone involved. Though Senna was grateful for this, since it allowed her to enjoy this wedding, even more, she was well aware that Aerys had not done this for her or Rhaegar. The man was celebrating himself.

The sun shone brightly and despite the quickly approaching winter, the temperatures were still quite pleasant, so the celebration took place in the gardens, rather than the halls of the keep, where fewer guests would have been able to attend. The whole gardens of the Red Keep had been decorated and prepared for the hundreds of guests. Many who had not been deemed important enough to join the ceremony in the Sept had come now, to see their next queen. Many more people had come to see the three dragon eggs, which Senna had presented to the king before the ceremony.

Guarded by two knights of the Kingsguard, the three eggs rested on a large pedestal, at the center of the gardens, always in sight of the king, but prominent enough for all the guests to understand the message. The Targaryens rule supreme. They defeat their enemies and will regain their greatest weapon. All those who would dare to defy the king would meet their end in fire and blood.

* * *

Robert drank greedily from his cup, as he watched the other guests dance. It wasn't that he didn't want to dance himself, but there was only one girl that he wanted to hold in his arms for this. But the wild Stark girl was nowhere to be found. It was frustrating him to no end. Ned had even gone to search for Lyanna, but he could not find her either.

"Don't drink so much, Robert," his mother chided him gently, "Please just enjoy the day and be happy for Lady..." she stopped for a moment, to correct herself, "for Princess Senna's sake."

Princess… Robert couldn't contain the derisive snort. He pitied her. She wasn't half as bad as he had expected a Targaryen bride to be. In fact, he was quite happy to have her around… at least when her hair was black and her haughty attitude was replaced with the easygoing mischievous streak of the woman she had dubbed Dorea. She sure was odd in that regard. Almost as if there were two persons living inside her body.

"Robert..." his mother sighed, "Please behave. Look at Stannis, the shining example of dignity and propriety."

"I'd rather be drunk and a fool, than an emotionless idiot like him," Robert grunted.

His mother looked scandalized by his words, but he cared little for it at the moment. Instead, he just stood up from his place and left her alone. He was well aware that his father would be most displeased and even Jon Arryn would upbraid him severely for such conduct, but his mood was already bad enough so he didn't care.

"So there you are, skulking around with such a gloomy expression. This isn't like you, my friend."

Robert's frown deepened, as he turned around, only to see the most important woman of this day. The future queen, Senna Targaryen.

"Where's your husband? Shouldn't you stay by his side for the whole event?" Robert growled. Her mock coy smirk irked him even more.

"My father in law has need of my husband for some reason. I'm not wanted at their… talk," Senna told him. He could see the slight twitch of her eyes, the carefully subdued but none the less rightful indignation. "Come, Robert, tell me what bothers you?"

"That is none of your business," he growled.

"We are friends Robert and no matter if Senna or Dorea, I will help you if I can. It is the least I can do to repay you for helping me with this other business."

He grumbled darkly. He really did not want to talk to her about this. It was far too private to share with her, no matter how much their relationship had improved in these past few weeks. But he had also learned that this woman was just as stubborn as him… sometimes even more. He had a gut feeling that this would be one of those cases.

"I want to fight!" he told her. Not exactly a lie, but not the real reason for his mood, "I'm not suited to this court stuff. Give me a tavern packed with good men or a good brawl and I am happy."

"And here I believed that you had trouble with your betrothed. Eddard mentioned something like that," Senna told him. She watched the other guests feign disinterest, mostly to allow him a modicum of his dignity, but had she watched his expression, she would have seen it morph from indignation to surprise and back to his angry scowl. Robert Baratheon and a woman that does not dance to his tune, Senna had not expected that there are many of that kind left. Eddard's sister was obviously one of those chosen few.

Robert sighed, "Ned talks too much."

"So, her name is Lyanna, right?"

"Yeah," Robert admitted, "Lyanna Stark, Ned's younger sister. Our betrothal is already official, but she still eludes me at every chance she gets."

"Then why do you keep pushing, Robert?"

"Pushing?"

"What would Dorea do, when you try to force your will on her?"

He pondered this for a moment. Senna's other half would likely turn him into a pig or something similar embarrassing. After kicking him where it hurts the most… repeatedly. Senna smirked when she saw him flinch.

"See. I've not met Lyanna Stark yet, but from what Eddard has told me about his sister it would seem that she is a free spirit. Try to cage her and she will bite you. Wolves are like that, you know."

He snorted. A wolf. She wasn't that far off with her words. Lyanna Stark is truly a wild and spirited woman. If he was a stag, like some of his ancestors were called, then she was without a doubt a wolf.

"The Queen has arranged for an extra celebration with only the wives and daughters of the lords attending. So I can find myself some companions for my time here in King's Landing. Lyanna will surely be there. Maybe I can find out how she feels about you," Senna told him with gently.

This surprised Robert. Would she do this for him? But why?

"And what will that cost me? No one ever does anything without gaining a favor in return," Robert growled.

Senna laughed again, as she softly shook her head. "Nothing, Robert. You may be grumpy and drunk most of the time, but I like you." He gave her an odd look as she said that, "No, not like that. Get your mind out of the gutter, Robert. You are more like… the annoying little brother I never had before."

"I'm pretty sure that I am older than you," he retorted in mild annoyance. But he was still stumped by her exclamation. Friends, that was something that he could easily admit. He considered her a friend. Not as close as Ned, but still. But a sister… by the Seven, that would be an odd idea. Maybe Dorea had the potential for that… not Senna. But Senna is Dorea and Dorea is Senna… this was really starting to hurt his head… or maybe this was the consequence of his drinking habit…

"Thing is, I've always had a soft spot for stags. It's why I was willing to see your father and listen to his offer. And it is why I entrusted you with one of my greatest secrets. So trust me, Robert, I will see if I can help you with your damsel," she told him. Her bright grin after that was almost infectious… almost…

"I think I need another one of your potions," he groaned, as he held his head. "This whole day is killing me..."

She laughed in amusement before she told him where he would find her servants. The girls would get him another dose. But it would be the only one he would get on this day. He grumbled about this, but he knew she would only laugh at him again, should he complain too loudly. What an annoying… friend… sister, whatever.

* * *

"Well, well, the bride is such a radiant beauty," Oberyn muttered.

He stood a bit to the side of the main event, so he could watch the other guests in peace for some moments. He wasn't a big fan of flashy royal weddings, but by the Seven, seeing the young bride of Rhaegar Targaryen made him rue the day he chose to bed her friend and not Senna Peverell herself. Now she was out of his reach… such a waste. He would have to find himself another distraction. There were plenty of pretty distractions prancing around.

He saw one particular distraction distancing herself from the crowd as well. Very pretty and young. Not too young in his opinion. Long brown hair and already some pleasing curves to see even under the bulky dress. She was obviously not a southron lady. Noble born without a doubt, but not from one of the idle kingdoms, like the Westerlands or the Reach. No, his eyes had found a true northern beauty.

"You would be well advised to take your eyes off my sister, Martell," a man growled near him.

Oberyn looked around until he found the owner of the voice. A handsome man, another child born and raised in the harsh North. But from the fire in his eyes, it was easy to see that this one would welcome a reason to fight.

"And what would you do, should I decide to pursue her?"

"You wouldn't like the outcome," the man told him seriously.

Oberyn chuckled. A fight would be just as good a distraction as some beautiful wench. And now he had found both in these northern siblings. But he also remembered that there would be only one noble family from the North that the king would care enough about to invite them here. The Starks. So this boy was likely the heir to North, Brandon Stark.

"Try, Stark and you will learn why even the dragons of House Targaryen were unable to subdue the warriors of Dorne," Oberyn smirked, just to annoy Brandon even more. The message he wanted to send was clear and Brandon's similar smirk only showed that both of them had accepted the challenge.

"Tomorrow I will find you in the melee! Don't disappoint me by not showing up, Martell!" Brandon said before he walked away, in the same direction that his sister had left in.

"What a wonderful family, those Starks," Oberyn muttered. But he also realized that he now had two men to fight at the tourney. This hotheaded Stark and that fool Mero. Oh well, he had fought against worse odds and won.

Rhaegar had just escaped his father's clutches and was on his way back to the celebration and to his wife's side. As he pondered his situation now. His father had made it clear that he expected him to get her with child soon. His wife had the foremost duty to ensure the future of her new family. Of course, Rhaegar knew this, but he wasn't so sure how his wife would react to this decree.

That would take some time getting used to. This strong and spirited woman he had met some months ago was now his wife. The future mother of his children. But that thought also made him smile. They would have beautiful children.

But as he walked back, he saw another man that he had wanted to speak to. Lord Tywin, who sat with his son at one of the lavishly decorated tables. The two were alone, as most guests were off to dance or enjoy themselves in other ways.

"Lord Tywin," Rhaegar greeted the man cordially.

"Your grace," the proud lord inclined his head ever so slightly in respect.

Tywin gave his son a short but pointed look and the boy quickly stood up and left the two men alone to talk. Drilled perfectly to obey his father's wishes… Rhaegar was no stranger to this. In the past, he had been equally subservient to his own father. These days… not so much.

"Have you given my proposition some thought?" Rhaegar asked, not bothering to sit down at the man's table. If this bothered Tywin, the lord did not show it.

But Rhaegar knew that Tywin Lannister was likely one of the most shrewd men in Westeros and that he would be a fool to expect the man to agree without any form of negotiation.

"I have. And I have come to the conclusion that we will have to discuss the terms some more, to come to an agreement that is beneficial to the both of us."

"But of course. Make no mistake, Lord Tywin, I am not a fool and I know why the realm has prospered under my father's rule. And I know that excellent service deserves recognition and reward," he knew that he was taking it all a bit far, but Tywin Lannister was just as proud as he was intelligent. Aerys Targaryen had stomped on this man's pride for years now and to mend the rifts that his father had created, he would have to appeal to the man's ego as well.

"Then I shall be looking forward to the future of the realm, your grace," neither of them would openly speak about the content of their former discussion. Not here, not now. But Tywin understood and appreciated this public display of respect. Countless other lords had seen it and they feared it. Too many of them would gain from a rift between the Lannisters and the Targaryens.

"Then I will leave you to enjoy the day with your family, Lord Tywin. We will speak again soon," Rhaegar said before he turned around and walked away to find Senna.

He found her soon enough, at the center of a small crowd. The Tyrells, Robert Baratheon and the Arryn heir among their numbers. It was interesting to see how she commanded the attention of the people around her. It looked so effortless, so natural to her. He had no doubt that she would make an excellent queen.

Her face lit up with an even brighter smile when she saw him and her reaction made him quite happy. More than he was willing to admit. But the other people around her quickly excused themselves, as they saw him approach. He wondered whether that was caused by his presence or the fact that they had lost Senna's undivided attention.

"Rhaegar!" Senna exclaimed happily, as she bounced over to him. She greeted him with a quick kiss before she took his arm and pulled him along. He didn't mind it, seeing as she pressed his arm quite firmly against her chest in the process. Again he could only wonder whether she would remain this… affectionate once the whole wedding feast is over.

"I saw that you are already quite sought after by the nobles of the realm. So much attention at once, not even my father would manage that feat."

"It's my natural charm, my dear. People just like being close to me. And Robert was there to keep an eye on me in your absence," she told him happily.

"Did he? What a… honorable man," Rhaegar said, albeit a bit more strained than he wanted to. He wasn't sure whether he liked this odd friendship his wife had struck with the heir of Storm's End. She said that it was nothing more than friendship and he trusts her word. But he did not trust Robert Baratheon, who was notorious for drinking and whoring.

Many eyes followed them, as they walked together. Not that this was unexpected. This was their day and his father had been right with one thing. Senna Peverell would be the greatest jewel their family would ever possess. But where his father only saw a price won after a long fight, Rhaegar now only saw Senna.

"A peaceful day. I wish there could be more like this," Senna sighed, "Imagine that, always happiness and celebration."

"A dream..." and nothing more. But he liked her idealism.

"Today was a good start. Only twelve quarrels, a hand full of fight and three attempted murders," She continued. "The nobles of Westeros truly respect our wedding."

"You will only have to endure this for a little longer, my dear," Rhaegar assured her. "The day is nearly over and soon the nobles will be distracted by other things."

She looked rather skeptical at him, "Oh really? Distracted by things like my naked body, revealed for all of them to see and lust after."

She was trying to goad him. He was sure of it. Why else would she talk about the final part of the wedding custom? Was she afraid of the bedding? He wondered what reasons she could have for that.

"The bedding will be soon," he told her, "But don't worry about it. They will make bawdy jokes rip your dress to shreds, but none of them would dare to go any further."

A strained smile played on her lips before she looked away from him. "I don't like this custom of your people. It's so… demeaning. For both of us."

"And what would you have me do, my dear? Tell all the lords that they should go home now?" he laughed lightly. Doing that would anger quite a few of the men here. But on the other hand, he could understand why she was rather unwilling to follow this custom.

"Oh, I have a much better idea, husband," an impish look adorned her face, as she looked around. They had distanced themselves quite a bit from the guests and guards. Enough so no one would see them.

He raised an eyebrow, a silent request for her to elaborate. But instead, she crashed her lips against his once more. Eagerly and passionate. But he could only enjoy it for a short moment before the sensation of an apparition left him gasping for breath.

She released her hold on him and walked a few steps away from where he stood. It gave him time to regain his bearings and as he did, he could only see that they were in a bedroom, a foreign city visible outside of the large window.

"Myr again?" he asked, still surprised by her powers.

"Getting back to a place that is so deeply connected to me is easy. And here I feel much more at ease," she told him.

"We will be missed," Rhaegar said.

"Let them," she replied calmly. "I am not for them to ogle. I want only you to see me. Only my husband. And in return, I want to be the only woman to see all of you." She sounded quite possessive, not that he minded it in this regard. But he enjoyed the moment, even more, when she cast a spell that made her dress disappear. It was almost as if the silken fabric was melting off her soft curves, until she stood before him, wearing nothing but the smile on her lips. And he couldn't take his eyes off her, as he explored every part of her body with his gaze, as she slowly approached him once more.

"Come, husband, make me yours," she whispered hoarsely in his ear. And there was no further prodding necessary.

Maybe it wasn't even bad that they were thousands of miles away from the wedding feast, where people were waiting for them to show up for the bedding. This way Senna was really his and his alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, two more chapters left, before the story here has reached the same stage as on the other site. I lack the time to upload the last two today, so I will do it tomorrow.


	7. Princess

She wasn't sure how she had slept that night or when they had decided to sleep at all, the next morning Senna was confused. Not because of what had happened the day and especially the night before, but because where she woke up. Or did she even wake up? Her surroundings looked too unreal to be true.

She was alone in a room so white it hurt her eyes just looking anywhere. Add to that, that she was still nude and disheveled from the nightly exertion, she was anything but at ease. At least until he appeared. Death, in all his skeletal and creepy glory. Dressed in thick black robes, he did his best to mimic the common superstitions of her first life.

"So it has been done," Death cackled, "All for the sake of the prophecy." Bones rattled loudly, as he trembled from his laughter.

"What do you want, you creep?" Senna shot back. She glared at him, her arms folded. She did not even try to preserve what modesty she might have left, knowing that if there was anyone not getting lecherous ideas at the sight of nude, beautiful woman, it would be this… whatever Death was. She wasn't sure. He wasn't a god at least, she had seen real gods like Thanatos defer to him.

"Such harsh words. We are partners, my dear Senna. Or Harry… or do you prefer Cassandra, from your second go? Being Cassandra was the most natural form you've taken thus far. So much raw power wasted on blind idealism. But you were the closest to perfect you could come to in a mortal shell."

"I am Senna Peverell until I die that won't change," she told him pointedly.

"Targaryen, my dear. You are a Targaryen now. That prince's little bed warmer and soon his breeder for more insane little fire worshipers," Death replied, cackling again. "But we all know why you do this. You've done well. All to protect this world from certain annihilation. You must be proud of yourself. You are a hero once more and all you had to do was spread your legs."

"I'm asking you one last time, why am I here?" His words had struck a chord, but she was both too proud and too stubborn to talk about this with Death.

"For one, you have not even left your bed. Neither has your husband, who is still drooling onto your breasts like some toddler. It would seem he mistakes your not so impressive bust for his favorite pillows." Death was obviously amused by his attempts to rile her up. But Senna wouldn't allow him the satisfaction of getting a rise out of her. "You can be such a bore at times." he sighed, "Very well. I am just here to congratulate you in person, my dear. Never has a royal wedding saved so many lives."

"I..."

"And one final warning, before I leave you to the tender mercies of your husband once more. Beware Aerys Targaryen. He may be an insane fool, but even you are not immortal. Better rid yourself of him, before he endangers everything. Next to him even your assassins are of no consequence."

"You know who sent the assassins?" Senna demanded.

Death nodded, "I do. But I won't reveal everything to you. That would be boring, my dear. But don't think too harshly of those who sent the murderers, it is only a common courtesy to try and kill the next queen. It's been nothing personal," he cackled again.

But as Senna wanted to press on and demand that he would reveal more. She had no chance, though, as the world around her got progressively brighter until she couldn't keep her eyes open any longer.

Then she woke up with a startled gasp, in her bed, in her husband's arms. Rhaegar was still sleeping soundly, an utterly carefree expression on his face. No worries, no stress, just the bliss of sleep after a night of lovemaking. She quite liked seeing him like this, he looked far more handsome when his worries are far from his mind.

A soft knock on the door drew her attention away from her husband. A servant entered, as silent as only the cats would be able to and stood a respectful distance away from the bed, waiting for her to acknowledge him. It was Roro, the head of her servants in Myr and the man she had left in charge of her estate in her absence.

With some trouble, she managed to pry herself free of her husband without rousing him from his sleep. She fetched herself a robe from her wardrobe nearby before she turned towards the waiting servant.

Roro, dutifully as always, had kept his eyes averted the entire time, despite the sight her nude form must have been to his eyes. But he was always a professional, something that she valued greatly and the only reason why the magisters had not fussed when she freed him from his bonds as a slave to have him work as her steward.

"You may raise your head, Roro," she told him kindly, as she walked past him to leave the room. There was no use in waking Rhaegar now, not for any kind of business Roro would have with her.

"You have a guest, milady," Roro told her, "the red priestess has come and asked for you specifically."

Senna sighed. She should have known. She had brought Rhaegar here so they could enjoy their first night as husband and wife in peace, but even in the early morning hours, someone would bother them here. And that though no one except her servants is supposed to know that she is here in the first place. Typical. But at the same time she was intrigued what her former mentor would want from her. She hadn't seen the priestess in nearly four years now.

"I see. She is in her usual spot, I presume?"

"Yes, milady," Roro nodded.

The potions lab. She had been quite fascinated by the potions Senna had supposedly 're-invented'. There was no use telling her about other lives and other teachers. So Senna had claimed that she had paid much gold for scrolls from Valyria, with detailed instructions. Sometimes, however, she wasn't entirely sure if the priestess really believed her or just humored a child that tried to keep secrets that just could not be explained.

"Stay here, Roro, and see to it that my husband has everything he might desire, should he wake up before I return," Senna ordered before she walked away from him.

With swift steps, she reached the lab, where she found her guest. The red priestess sat at one of the tables, studying a scroll Senna had left there. One of the potions she had yet to master… the nasty one to regrow bones.

"Good to see you, my dear," the priestess said, without looking up from her current reading material. Once she was finished, she stood up and approached Senna. "I believe congratulations are in order. Even though I would have much preferred seeing you wed in one of our temples and not according to the customs of those feeble-minded children and their false gods."

"Their gods or yours, I have yet to see any god interfere with the world we live in," Senna told her, "but I'm glad to see you again, Lady Melisandre."

Melisandre frowned lightly, not that it would have done anything to mar her beauty. Senna wondered, would Rhaegar see them now, which would he find more alluring. The shining copper of the Red God's priestess or the shining silver of the daughter of Valyria?

"My dear child, you are the living proof of his existence. Your parents were firm believers, they prayed for your birth and their faith was rewarded." Melisandre told her. "And they thanked their god for his gift, by having you trained by me."

"Yet they died and the Lord of Light did nothing to protect his faithful servants," Senna replied bitterly, "But I am sure you have not come to discuss religion with me… again. We are both beyond wasting time for such idle nonsense."

Melisandre smiled benignly at her former student, as she appraised Senna, "You have become such a beautiful young woman. And your powers will be perfect to do our lord's work in this world. You will do all that I have envisioned." She stepped even closer and pressed a kiss on Senna's forehead. "Our lord has shown me much. But your future is still so clouded. It is your path and yours alone. But I can only give you one last piece of advice."

"What is it?"

"Watch for the sky, my dear. Be wary, darkness gathers even now. When the red star bleeds, Azor Ahai shall be born again and you shall be the mother of our savior," Melisandre said. "This won't be our last meeting, my dear. The day will come when we will meet again. Farewell."

Then Melisandre left, not giving Senna even the slightest chance to ask any questions. Mysterious as always, she had dropped one of her premonitions and left her student to deal with the fallout. She was almost as frustrating as Dumbledore had been. But unlike the old codger, Senna was never sure whose side Melisandre was really on. The only thing that no one would be able to doubt would be her devotion to her god.

None the less, she wrote Melisande's words down. It was almost like an instinct, something that the priestess had instilled into her when she had been just a small child. Make sure you never forget anything important, the priestess had told her. Promises of fire and blood… well, threats more likely were given, should she ever forget her path and what was needed of her.

She shook her head softly, unwilling to let Melisandre's words bother her. Her mood was still too good to bother with such nonsense like prophecies and foretold saviors. Her mind was entirely occupied by her husband, who was still sleeping in her bedroom… and all the things she wanted to do with him at that moment. The queen and her mother would have frowned deeply, had they even seen a glimpse of her thoughts at that moment. But Senna could not care for the wishes of these women, especially not for what her dead mother might have wanted. In most ways she was still just a simple teenage girl… a married teenage girl with a rather handsome and interesting husband.

After that she returned to her bedroom, she found that her husband was already awake and waiting for her. He had partly dressed and looked out of the large window onto the city outside. "Well look who's woken up in my absence," Senna said. She smiled brightly as she approached her husband kissed him.

Rhaegar seemed still quite eager and kissed her back. "It is still rather odd to imagine that we are on the other side of the Narrow Sea at the moment."

"Scared?"

"Should I be scared of you and your powers?" he asked her back.

"No. Not you," Senna told him, "But this whole situation still seems so unreal at times."

"I know. Duties aside, being married is still an odd concept for my mind to grasp. I am sure, however, that I couldn't have married a more interesting woman," he smiled at her before he leaned down and captured her lips once more in a brief kiss. A promise of what he wanted and would do with her."

"We will find out how this whole marriage thing works. Together," she agreed. "But we should return soon or else you should fear your father's wrath."

"How long have we been gone?"

"Only for the night. We disappeared in the early evening hours… and the sun rises here earlier than in Westeros, so..." she wondered, maybe there wouldn't be as much trouble as she had thought. Well except for spiting a degrading customs that only the lecherous old men in the realm like. "If we return now, we would still have some more hours before sunrise."

"Well, we only need to be in our room when they come looking for us..." Rhaegar said with a smirk on his lips, "and I find the bed here much more… inviting."

Senna laughed as she heard him and she quite liked his way of thinking, "If that's so, my prince," she said, as she shed her robe and slowly walked towards her bed, her hips swaying gently. "Then come back to bed, husband." Delaying their return for one or two hours more hours shouldn't be a problem… and even if it was, Senna did not care. Kings, priestesses, Death, they all mattered little at the moment, as she allowed her husband liberties with her body that no one else would ever enjoy.

* * *

Robert Baratheon was in a jolly mood for once. He couldn't frankly remember when or if he had ever laughed as much as the moment when the time for the bedding ceremony had come and the new princess was nowhere to be found. The look of outrage on those old bastards' faces was priceless. He wouldn't have thought it possible for Senna to escape this particular custom, but by the gods, she had eluded them, together with her husband.

But now the whole keep was one chaotic mess of knights, servants, and even some lords, all searching for the newly married couple, who had yet to show up again. They had not retired to the prince's chambers, as some had expected. And even the lady's own rooms had been vacated, except for her servants, who had been mortified by the sudden attention they were given by the horde of angry men. Had it not been for the captain of Senna's guards, the servant girls would have suffered the men's anger. But Robert could easily understand why the princess had trusted this man with her

Now even Robert's own father had sent him out to find the missing prince and princess. A waste of time for sure. With Senna's powers, he wouldn't be surprised if they were on the other side of the world already doing gods' know what… he really did not even want to imagine what they were up to. Thinking of Senna in that way seemed… wrong in a way. He had to snort. She had called him an awkward little brother and brothers don't bed their sister… usually. Maybe she wasn't too far off with her claim. But having her as a sister would be just as odd, if not even more...

And Robert was not really searching for Senna at all. Instead, he had been looking for his best friend… to exchange information about the whereabouts of the princess, of course. But truth be told, he just wanted an excuse to get away from the madness… and possibly get a look at his own betrothed… if she would let him. Maybe even talk to her for some time.

When he finally found Ned, he couldn't believe his own good fortune, as Ned wasn't alone, as usual, but in the company of both his siblings. Brandon, Ned's older brother, was on the training field, unleashing all his fury on a training figure made out of wood and straw, whereas his siblings watched.

Ned was sharpening his own sword, but Lyanna was arguing loudly with her brothers. She wanted a sword of her own, something that her brother's had obviously denied her.

"I said no, Lyanna. Not here, where you have to be prim and proper for all those poor southron lords," Brandon told his sister. "Their feeble mind's can't deal with the ferocity of a fine northern woman."

"But I always train with you when we are at home!" Lyanna protested heatedly.

Brandon was obviously annoyed by her at this point, as he brought his sword down and cut deeply into the dummy before him. "I said no. We are not in Winterfell here. And even though all other men in this keep are currently busy chasing their missing princess, I will not allow you to do anything that might make us look bad in front of the other lords. Father would have my hide!"

Robert watched this exchange with some amusement. Lyanna was truly spirited and wild. Maybe Senna was right and pushing the girl too much too soon would be a mistake. She was obviously not even willing to entertain the idea of marriage at the moment, at least judging by the scathing glare she sent his way as she pushed past him to leave the yard. But even with her face distorted in anger, she still looked beautiful to him.

"Robert," Ned greeted him happily, "Up already?"

"Far too soon, but with all this commotion it is hard to sleep," Robert replied, "Senna has really done it this time."

Both men chuckled lightly, as Brandon joined them. "Brandon, this is Robert Baratheon, son of Lord Steffon Baratheon and the heir of Storm's End." Ned introduced his friend. Brandon said nothing but studied Robert with great interest. "And Robert, this is my older brother, Brandon Stark, the heir to Winterfell."

"So this is the lout that wishes to marry our sister?" Brandon said darkly. "Prove to me that you are worthy of Lyanna or else I will end you before I let you marry her."

"You will find no better man for her than me!" Robert replied indignantly.

Brandon laughed darkly at him, "We will see. You have your chance at the tourney. Melee or jousting, I don't care. Just don't disappoint me, Baratheon." And with those parting words Brandon left, likely to find his sister.

"Don't be too angry with him, Robert," Ned said, "All of us are rather protective of Lyanna."

"Yet you agree that I am worthy of her!"

"I do. But I know you as if you were one of my brothers, to them you are a stranger from the other side of the Seven Kingdoms," Ned lamented. It was obvious that the younger Stark son was quite eager to see his sister with his best friend. And his trust was something that Robert was loath to disappoint.

"So, what will we do now?" Robert asked, "Senna has dumped us all, not that I mind that."

"Yes, but..."

A great commotion suddenly started in the keep. Like a wave, it seemed to travel from on end of the keep to the other. Robert already grumbled in annoyance, when they heard one of the servants call, "They have been found. Prince Rhaegar and Princess Senna have returned to the throne room!"

* * *

Aerys Targaryen sat upon his throne, looking menacingly at all the courtiers around him. His expression only showed signs of changing, when he saw his son and daughter-in-law enter the room through a side door.

The commotion in the room suddenly died down, only to be replaced with hushed whispers, that sounded like the waves crashing against the shore. All eyes were focused on the newlywed royal couple.

"Greetings, father. I hope this day has been pleasant so far," Rhaegar greeted the king cordially.

The ghost of a smirk played on the king's lips, as he understood his son's plan. The whole commotion about the previous evening would quickly be a forbidden topic at court, should the king show any signs of approval.

"Has the marriage been consummated," the king asked directly.

Rhaegar seemed unfazed by this rather private topic, but Senna's cheeks showed a deep red color. "It has. Several times in fact," the prince replied with a winning smile. Embarrassing as it was, this had to be done to silence all those would doubt and spread dangerous lies.

"And the first sheets have been red?"

"Yes, father," Rhaegar said.

Aerys nodded, pleased by this. Now the girl was truly a Targaryen. He had won. Now he only needed the dragons and with fire and blood, he would have them soon.

"Good. I expect her to be with child within a year," the king said, "You are dismissed. Get ready for the tourney."

And so the discussion was over. No one would be allowed to question this or the marriage. Those who dared wouldn't like the consequences.

* * *

Senna was quite annoyed with the unrelenting attention she had to face, as she and Rhaegar finally returned to their rooms. It would seem that she had underestimated the interest of the people had in the new royal couple and now there wouldn't be much privacy for her in the near future. Even more surprising, it weren't more guards that had been sent to follow her, but it was the queen herself, who kept a close eye on her new daughter-in-law.

Even as they finally sat in the stands for the grand tourney, Queen Rhaella wasn't far. She sat next to Senna, not next to the king as she should have. But with Rhaegar participating in the joust, no one would object as the queen usurped his place for the day.

"Too many of the men ride with anger now, Senna," Rhaella told the girl. "As a foreigner, it was unwise for you to forgo our traditions. Some people think that you disrespect our gods."

"With all due respect, my only concern is my husband's happiness. I am not here to degrade myself for the pleasure of some lecherous old men," Senna told the queen with a small smile. "Let them complain and rage, a night of drunken revelry in a whorehouse will make them forget soon enough."

"If it only was this easy, child," the queen said sadly. "Just promise me that you will be more mindful from now on. This isn't Myr, this isn't the land you've grown up in. We follow different gods and different customs."

"Then maybe some customs should be changed," Senna replied indignantly. She really did not wish to snub the queen like this, but she just wouldn't budge on this topic. She wasn't some piece of meat for the men to lust after like a pack of hungry wolves.

Rhaella said no more and rather diverted her attention towards Prince Viserys, who bounced around on the stands near them. The boy was much more lively, especially when he was the first to find Senna and Rhaegar after their return, something that he gleefully tells to everyone willing to listen.

"Sister, look, they are fighting again," the young prince shouted, as he rushed towards her.

In a way, it was rather odd to hear him call her sister. But apparently the queen had made it quite clear to the boy that she would be Rhaegar's wife and therefore his new sister, something that the little prince accepted quite eagerly as it seemed. But at the same time, Viserys always glare towards Rhaegar, when he was close to her. It was such an adorable sight.

"Viserys, please calm yourself," the queen told her son.

"Come here, Viserys," Senna bid the boy. As soon as he was close, she picked him up and sat him on her lap. Queen Rhaella frowned slightly but said nothing, as Viserys was obviously pleased and quiet now. "All those men are fighting to prove their mettle. Winning this contest is a great honor."

"I want honor, too!" Viserys said cheerfully.

Senna laughed and even the queen looked amused at the young boy. "One day, Viserys. When you are big and strong, you will be a shining knight and win a great many tourneys and the hearts of all beautiful maidens in the land."

"Like you?" the boy asked.

Again Senna could only laugh, "I'm no longer a maiden, Viserys. I'm a married woman now."

"Then I don't want maidens!"

Again she could only marvel how innocent the boy seemed. It was just unbelievable that the child was related to the king. Just looking at Aerys now, as he watched the melee with a bloodthirsty grin, made it clear just how much Death's warning rang true. But maybe Viserys would grow up to be just like his brother. Two princes of this kind would do wonders for the realm, she was sure of it.

"Can I learn to fight?"

"Soon, Viserys. When you are a little bit older," the queen told her son. The prince, however, pouted. It was clear that he wasn't happy about this.

Senna meanwhile watched the chaos of the melee with some interest. Neither Rhaegar nor Mero or Robert would participate here. All of them would compete in the joust once this fight and the archery competition was over. There was more honor to win in the joust and the competition was much fiercer with the generous sum of gold the winner would receive.

This was her first time attending a tourney, as they were mostly an Andal custom and only open to the traditional knights of the lands that follow the Faith of the Seven. But as gruesome and dirty as they were, Senna would rather prefer for all conflicts to be solved in these contests of strength, than on the bloody fields. And since killing was not the objective of these fights, it was also rather fun to watch… in a bloody sort of way.

She had seen similar traditions in the Free Cities as well, though mostly from the Dothraki and their more aggressive customs. She had not enjoyed watching their fights, though, as the Dothraki had no qualms to kill. The knights here in this realm were much more careful to avoid that, so no trouble would follow these events.

"What chaos. I wonder how they will ever find a victor," Senna mused.

"They always do. Give them some more time and only one will be left standing," the queen assured her. "I have to admit, however, that I have not seen these many participants in a melee before. The knights have come from far and wide to join."

Senna nodded, as she tried to count just the number of different sigils on the shields of the knights. Some noble houses even had more than one son competing, though likely not for the handsome reward, but for the honor to be rewarded by the new royal princess, in front of all powerful men in the realm.

Especially the number of hopeful hedge knights was enormous. All of them had come with the same hope. To distinguish themselves and earn a place in the household of some lord. Senna even entertained the idea to take one or two of these hopeful men into her service, as knights in her own personal guard. Mero was due to leave once the tourney is over, so he can return to his duties as his father's heir in Myr, so she was in need of new able-bodied fighters.

"Look, fire!" Viserys said excitedly. He pointed with his little hand towards one of the fighters, who wielded a sword that seemed to be burning brightly, much to the terror of all the men near him.

"This isn't right. Steel should not burn," Senna mused.

But it also reminded her of the stories she had been told as a child. Both those her parents had told her as well as those she had heard from Lady Melisandre. A warrior with a burning sword… of course, this was nothing more than some childish trickery, but still, it evoked long buried memories. Fond memories, that made her smile. She truly must have looked odd, smiling at the sight of a burning blade. Like the fire obsessed madman who sat not far from her.

"It is nearly over now," Senna heard the king mutter. "The fire will triumph as it should!" And true to the king's words, the man with the fiery sword made quick work of his opponents. He was skilled, no doubt, but it was just as obvious that without his burning toy, he would not win this easily.

Soon enough the man was the only left standing and all other fighters had retired from the field of battle or lay battered and bruised in the dirt. The crowd cheered loudly for the splendid performance.

As the flames that danced around his blade died down, the man sheeted his weapon and slowly approached the stands, so he could receive his price. Fifty thousand coins, a hefty sum for a man who wore no sigil, no sign of allegiance to any noble house in the realm. He did not even look like a knight at all.

Viserys had to vacate his comfortable place on Senna's lap, as she had to stand up to reward the winner of this contest, a duty she was more than happy to fulfill. A servant handed her a gilded feather, which the victor could later exchange for his real price money once he was ready to leave.

The man who had won stopped in front of the stands and knelt, as was expected of him in this situation, as Senna descended the stairs to the ground. All eyes followed her every step as she did.

"You have won a great victory, so rise and tell me your name," she said, as she stood in front of him.

Senna heard the distinctive sounds of heavy armor moving, but not from the man before her, but the two members of the Kingsguard behind her, that watched over her in this situation. Both knights were obviously overeager as it seemed.

"I am Thoros of Myr, your grace. I am your humble servant," the man said, as he rose from the ground.

Senna was quite intrigued, as she recognized some of the intricate markings on his armor. This man was not just from her own home city, but also another follower of the Lord of Light. One of the warrior priests she had seen in the temple.

"You are a red priest?" Senna asked him.

Thoros smirked slightly, "Not a good one, I'm afraid. The fighting comes easier to me than praying and I've never been able to refuse a good drink," he laughed heartily. So similar to Robert, Senna thought with a smirk.

"Then receive your price, Thoros of Myr. You've won the melee in a great display of cunning and strength," his smirk widened as she said this, as she made it clear that she was sure that his fire had won the fight, not his prowess, "As such you shall receive the rewards of fifty thousand gold dragons. Spend them wisely." Then she handed him the gilded feather, an act that was met with great cheering from the crowd.

"Your grace, may I ask one other boon from you on this day?" Thoros asked directly, uncaring for how much he would breach the proper protocol with this.

Senna was surprised by his boldness for a moment, before she composed herself and answered, "Speak, but know that I may decide to decline your request."

"Of course, your grace. I would ask for you to take me into your service, as part of your guard, so I may serve you faithfully," Thoros asked loudly, so all would hear him.

Senna raised one delicate eyebrow, as she regarded the man once more. A red priest. A warrior with skill and he came here to ask to serve her? It sounded rather far-fetched. She wouldn't put it past the other priests at the temple in Myr to send this man to ensure that she wouldn't stray and follow the false gods of this realm. But she was in need of men to serve her… and somehow trusting a stranger from her home seemed easier than to trust a renown knight and stranger from this foreign realm.

"Very well, Thoros of Myr. I shall accept you into my service. Serve me well and with distinction and you shall be rewarded," Senna announced loudly before she turned around to return to her place. She just hoped that this wasn't a mistake.

The king looked quite intrigued by her choice, surely because of the flaming sword. But the queen… Rhaella looked more than displeased by this. So much, it actually began to worry Senna. She really did not wish for a quarrel with her new mother-in-law.

"I hope you know what you are doing, my dear. The lords are wary enough of you for being a foreigner, but employing a Red Priest… this cannot end well," Rhaella told her with a sigh.

"Please don't worry on my account, your grace. I know how to deal with zealots. But his skills can't be denied and once he has proven himself as trustworthy, he will be of great use to us," Senna assured the queen. Or maybe she tried to reassure herself at the moment. No matter what, she would have to rethink every word and every action twice as careful now. She was no longer just a lady, but a princess and a future queen. Every word, every action would be judged by the lords of the realm. _'Just why had she agreed to marry a prince in the first place?'_ , she thought with a weary sigh.

* * *

Rhaegar stood with Arthur near the tents, as they watched the outcome of the melee. It had only been the first of five contests and by far the shortest of the whole tourney. But that did not mean that it was any less awe inspiring.

He had wanted to fight in the melee himself, unhorsing men left and right while wearing the favor of his beautiful wife. But Ser Arthur and his mother had warned him to desist. Let the men's blood cool for a bit before you give them a chance to hit you, they had said. Begrudgingly he had accepted.

Both he and Senna had underestimated the consequences of foregoing the bedding ceremony. The men had been almost too eager to see Myr's jewel without a stitch of clothing on her. Their lewdness was nauseating to the prince. And deep down he enjoyed knowing that he was the only man to see Senna as she is. To be the only man to hold her, to taste her and to make love to her, it was a triumphant feeling, one that he could not have anticipated beforehand.

He watched her for a while, as she sat with his mother and brother. Viserys sat on her lap again, happy as he had seldom seen the boy. But seeing his wife with the child, he couldn't wait for them to have children of their own. He just knew that Senna would be an excellent mother. But there was one problem and that problem sat close to his family and watched them with his cruel eyes. His own father.

"I can understand why the men are so angry, Rhaegar," Arthur said merrily, "What a marvelous woman, almost as if marriage has only enhanced her beauty. Whatever you two have done last night, it must have been fulfilling… for both of you."

"I won't tell you anything, Arthur," Rhaegar replied, looking mock stern at his friend, "I am sure you can use your imagination." But of course, he knew that Arthur was right. Senna had been beautiful before, but now she was almost radiant. She commanded the attention of the men around her like no other person.

"Look, what a fight!" Myles exclaimed giddily.

"Do you know which house that man belongs to," Arthur asked the squire, as he pointed at one fighter in black armor, with an equally black shield adorned with a golden Kraken.

"The golden Kraken… some ironborn, I think..."

"Not just some, Myles. He is a Greyjoy," Richard corrected his fellow squire.

Arthur nodded and looked proudly at Richard. The boy had always been quicker to learn and Myles was never really interested in the heraldry of other houses. "That is correct."

"That's Euron Greyjoy, Lord Quellon's second oldest son at the moment," Rhaegar told him. "He came with his father, and older brother, Balon." And what a surprise their appearance had been. Of course, they had been invited, just like all other great houses in Westeros. However, no one had expected the reclusive ironborn to come to a royal wedding. But apparently the rumors of Lord Quellon's wish to forge closer ties to the mainland are more than just hearsay.

"Careful with those ironborn, lads. We can never be sure what hidden agenda they might have," Arthur told the boys. "For every sword, you can see, expect ten daggers you can't!"

"Maybe they just wanted to see Princess Senna," Myles replied.

"Who wouldn't," Arthur said with a deep chuckle. "All men in the Seven Kingdoms envy you now, Rhaegar."

"Better be quiet, Arthur. I've seen your sister and it is obvious that she will be quite sought after in the near future," Rhaegar replied jestingly.

Arthur sighed and nodded, "Too right you are. Ashara is already attracting too much attention thanks to me. But my brother and I agree that we cannot hide her for much longer. Our father wishes for her to serve the royal family in some way."

"I'm sure Senna can take care of her if that would be agreeable to you," Rhaegar offered.

"I would appreciate that," Arthur answered truthfully. He would be a fool to decline this offer. His sister would be able to marry above her station, just by being close to the future queen. Such a position was usually reserved for ladies from much more influential and powerful families.

"Don't worry, Arthur, my wife will take good care of your sister. But first, let's enjoy this tourney, shall we?" Rhaegar smiled, though he was slightly worried as well.

When the winner of the melee asked Senna for a boon, Rhaegar had been ready to return to her side, worried what this man might want from her, additionally to the handsome sum he had received as prize money. His trepidation rose, when they found out that this red-haired, disheveled man was not just some hedge knight, but a red priest. But Senna was neither scared nor showed any other emotion but her almost serene the end he resolved to wait and observe. He would keep a very close eye on this man for sure.

* * *

Senna wasn't sure what she was supposed to expect when she followed Rhaegar into the large ruin that had once been the Dragonpit. The king himself had sent for them, ordered them to seek him out in the place that had once housed his family's glory. For whatever reason he had done so… she dared not think about it. Knowing the king, it couldn't be good.

The streets were still packed with people, so the prince and his princess were not exactly easy to hide from the eyes of the commoners. Instead, the people flocked to the royal couple, surrounded them the entire time, only held back by the two knights of the Kingsguard and a large group of Gold Cloaks. But it did not seem to bother the people, that they could not get closer to the palanquin. It was enough for them to watch them from afar… though most of their attention was focused on Senna alone.

By the time they had reached the Dragonpit, more members of the city guard had come and chased the people away. Their brutality in doing so made Senna frown deeply and she was sure that she would have a word with her husband about this. Judging by his look, Rhaegar was already expecting her to say something here. But he was obviously relieved that she had enough restraint to keep such discussions behind closed doors.

As they entered the Dragonpit itself, Senna allowed her gaze to wander. It was truly a magnificent sight, even in this ruined state. She wondered how it might have looked, back in the glory days of House Targaryen, when giant dragons slept in this cavernous building. Maybe she would find out, should her new family succeed with hatching the dragons...

"You are late," King Aerys rasped, as he saw his son and daughter-in-law.

Aerys stood in the center of the pit, with the queen and the rest of the Kingsguard. More servants and robed men Senna had not seen before were with them as well.

"Forgive us, father, but this isn't exactly the throne room. Getting here was rather tedious," Rhaegar replied stoically.

The king huffed derisively but said nothing about his son's excuse. Instead, he called for a servant to come closer.

Senna frowned deeply when she saw the dragon egg in the man's hands. Of course, Aerys would choose the black egg first, whose dark scales would cut into the flesh, like a freshly sharpened knife. The king was hoping to hatch a new Balerion from it, no doubt. But all he had accomplished with this strange ceremony here, was that the man who carried it had suffered deep cuts in his hands. The whole egg was sullied with blood now.

"Tonight you all will be witnesses of the rebirth of our power. Tonight I will return the dragons to our realm." Aerys exclaimed in excitement, as the servant stopped not far from him. "Begin with the ceremony. Let the raging fury of the fire free the dragon from his prison, so he can unleash his might upon my enemies."

The robed men stepped forward, with strange jars in their hands. Senna could only frown as she had no clue what the king was planning to do. But the fear in the servant's eyes and the way the queen tried to look anywhere but at the man revealed that whatever the king had planned, it wouldn't be good.

The robed men began to pour the contents of their jars over the servant and the egg. A sticky green liquid, that looked like some potion's experiment gone horribly wrong. But she had never seen this substance before… and that worried her greatly.

"What are they doing?" Senna demanded to know, but no one answered. Not even Rhaegar, whose lips had formed a thin line, as the rest of his features had become hard as stone. "Rhaegar!"

"They are going to burn this man," the prince said finally. His voice was filled with revulsion.

Senna wanted to put an end to this, but when she tried, Rhaegar grabbed her arm and held her back. He trapped her in a tight hug, his hand caressing the back of her head as he tried to keep her from looking at the gruesome scene. He wouldn't release her, no matter how hard she struggled.

"It is already too late. His is covered in so much wildfire, the sun alone would be enough of to set him aflame. There is nothing we can do..." Rhaegar said bitterly.

"But..."

As the robed men retreated, one of them threw a torch at the cowering man. In a large ball of greenish fire, the man disappeared in the flames. It happened so quick, that even his agonized screams ended abruptly, as he was burnt to ash in a matter of moments.

"Take this sacrifice and the fire and rise, my wonderful beast. Rise from your shell and bathe this world in your flames!" Aerys exclaimed as he cackled madly.

"This will do nothing, you monster! Do you really believe that this is how you hatch a dragon? With a sacrifice of blood and fire!" Senna yelled at him. She had managed to escape Rhaegar's attempts to trap her and looked at the king with all the fury she could muster. In this moment, she wanted to curse this man to kingdom come, damn the consequences. But Rhaegar managed to hold her in a firm embrace once more. The prince must believe that he was protecting her, though he was only protecting his monster of a father.

"A pity," Aerys lamented, as there was no dragon. Only the black egg surrounded by green flames and ash. "Maybe a thief wasn't worthy of the dragon. Maybe he will need a better sacrifice."

"It wouldn't matter if you sacrifice one or one thousand men. You lack the knowledge to hatch a dragon," Senna told him angrily.

"Then you will hatch me those dragons or else I will burn someone you will surely miss," the king told her, as he walked out of the Dragonpit. "Ser Oswell, stay and bring me the egg once the fire is out."

Senna was shaking in anger, as she watched the king's retreating back. The queen stopped shortly near her son and shook her head sadly. She was pale and sad, as she continued to follow her husband back to the Red Keep.

"This madness must end," Rhaegar muttered.

Senna looked at him in surprise, as this was the first time he had spoken so openly about ending his father's reign. She had expected him to bide his time and wait for Aerys to kick the bucket on his own, but the anger in his voice made it obvious that he was not willing to wait. It suited her well, she would do whatever she can to aid him in this endeavor.

"Come, my dear. Let's get back home. There is nothing we can do here," he told her. He still held her close, though no longer in the iron grip as before.

"What is our home, Rhaegar?"

"Wherever we are. Wherever our family can be safe," he replied simply.

Senna frowned, "Then the Red Keep can never be our home as long as the monster lives."

"Yes… I agree," Rhaegar replied simply. There was nothing more to say. No more hushed whispers. This night King Aerys had shown the true extent of his madness. And both prince and princess knew what they would have to do now. For the sake of the realm and the sake of their own family.

* * *

As the sun rose on the tourney's second day, a feeling of great anticipation filled all the inhabitants of the Red Keep. It would be the first day of the joust. The first of seven, due to the great number of participants. All great houses had a son, grandson, brother or nephew in the competition. Add to that the sheer endless number of hedge knights, it was likely the biggest tourney of its kind in the Seven Kingdoms to this day.

But it was also a day that Senna dreaded. All those close to would participate in the competition, leaving her alone with King Aerys on the stands. The queen had felt unwell or at least Senna had been told that the she did, so there would be no one but her, the king and his guards on the royal stands. It wasn't that she feared Aerys, but his cruelty and deranged mind were quite unsettling to watch and listen to.

And as the knights of the realm all lined up in front of the king, his malevolent smile was all the confirmation she needed to understand what this man wanted. Hundreds of men, here for his entertainment. Men who would fight and possibly die, just because Aerys Targaryen had promised them riches and honor.

Senna herself wanted to sneer at him, but desisted, as she did not wish to cause a scene that could possibly have dangerous consequences for the rest of the royal family. Not with all the vultures waiting and watching for a sign of weakness, so they can strike. She would not give those opportunistic bastards the opening they were waiting for. When the moment comes to deal with Aerys, it would not be watched by the whole realm.

None the less she hated how Aerys presented her now. He had her seat moved closer to his, but slightly below his own place. To all onlookers, it must look as if she sat at his feet, like a lesser animal he kept as his pet. She forced herself to smile none the less.

As the knights presented themselves, Rhaegar moved away from the crowd approached her, his lance firmly in his hand. He asked for her favor in this competition, a request she gladly granted. He was here to fight for her, to crown her as the Queen of Love and Beauty. It was one of the traditions she actually liked. There was this romantic side to the otherwise violent and uncouth competition between men. And her husband looked quite dashing in his black and red armor. Who would ever need a shining knight on a white stead for a fairy tale when men like Rhaegar rode for her honor?

But Rhaegar knew that he would have to fight many hard battles in those next seven days if wished to emerge as the victor. The more knights Senna watched in the joust, the more she wondered just what chance Rhaegar really had in this.

There had already been some remarkable jousters among the first she got to see. A Lannister knight, a brother of Lord Tywin as far she been told, showed off his skills in a contest against some lordling from the Reach. Others of similar skill followed, knights of both great and minor houses. Most of their much-vaunted victories had been at the expense of the poor hedge knights, though.

When it was finally Rhaegar's first turn, half a day had already passed and Senna was most eager to see him fight.

"Now Rhaegar will show those imbeciles the true might of House Targaryen," Aerys muttered, as his son prepared himself for his first joust.

Rhaegar was up against a young lord from the Riverlands, a Tully. She only recognized his sigil, since the Tullys are a major House and therefore more important than the vast majority of their bannermen.

"Can you see the indomitable will to win in my son's eyes, daughter?" Aerys asked ominously. It wasn't the only reason why she despised him, though.

Oh, how she hated it when he called her daughter. She felt elated when Queen Rhaella, the kind woman that she was, had accepted her as her new child. But Senna had no wish to be connected to Aerys in any way or form. But the man knew how much it unnerved her and he got his sick pleasure from tormenting her with this.

"My husband will not fail," she replied stoically. "He is a true dragon."

"He is," Aerys agreed, "and all of those pesky lords will soon learn why House Targaryen reigns supreme. My son will humble them here and our dragons will make them cower in fear."

"You have yet to hatch one of them… your grace," Senna replied icily. She had not forgotten what the man had done the previous evening. She wouldn't forget it anytime soon, "Many have tried, nearly all have failed. Some even like to think that it is impossible for men to hatch a dragon egg without its mother's warmth to lure the beasts from their sleep in their scaly shells."

"You will find a way, my daughter. Your powers will unleash the dragons' fury once more and all of this world will learn what true power is."

"The dragons couldn't save Valyria, what makes you think that they will change the fate of this realm?"

A valid question and one that had bothered her since the first time she had seen her family's dragon eggs. So many men had tried to bring the dragons back to this world, all had done it in the belief that on the backs of these beasts, they would be able to conquer the world. Even the great Aegon the Conqueror could only conquer six kingdoms with his dragons and he had Balerion, the greatest dragon since the glory days of ancient Valyria.

"With your powers in their blood and the dragons to incinerate their enemies, my heirs will be unstoppable. Not even Aegon himself could claim that much power at once." Aerys muttered.

Senna knew that the only other people to hear Aerys talk were the three knights of the Kingsguard, that currently stood behind the king to guard him. But she wasn't happy about how openly he discussed her magic in the presence of these men. Especially the Lord Commander showed a deep frown, as he looked at her. The man had obviously not forgotten that she had attacked the king before.

Rhaegar won his first fight, however, only after the ninth tilt. His opponent was rather formidable, but ultimately inferior to the prince. But Senna enjoyed seeing her husband win. And as she watched Rhaegar she knew that she would no longer be able to deny that she might have developed a slight crush on the prince. Loving him would ultimately not be all that hard… it was remarkably easier than she had expected. But maybe she would also finally be allowed to experience some happiness. Even with the dark prophecy lurking in the future. A family and helping the people in this realm, her future wasn't all dark and gloomy… for once.


	8. Blood of the Dragon

Robert drank greedily from his cup, as he sat outside of his tent, near the lists. Next to him were a few squires and servants from Storm's End, busy fixing their lord's armor, which had been dented during Robert's last joust.

He had not thought it possible, but that high and mighty Kingsguard lackey had actually bested him. Twelve lances had they shattered before Ser Arthur threw him out of the saddle. Robert wasn't even sure how he should feel about it. The tourney was over for him and that was a damn shame… but at least he went out with a good fight. But still, he wanted to go all the way to the end, to win this tourney and crown Lyanna as his Queen of Love and Beauty. Not even her hotheaded older brother would have been able to deny that he was worthy then. Now all that he could do was watch… he hates watching.

He looked around, hoping to find either Ned or Lyanna. But neither could be seen, even though Brandon Stark was next in line for the joust. His opponent was one of Senna's followers. Mero, the boy who followed her like a rabid guard dog. Neither of them had been knighted because their homelands followed the Faith of the Seven, but the oldest Stark son looked somewhat stronger and sturdier.

Senna sat in the stands, close to the king and watched the whole tourney somewhat disinterested. It was strange, on the first few days of the tourney she was much more enthusiastic. He wondered why it seemed that her mind was preoccupied all the time now. Maybe he should go and talk to her about it… on the other hand, she would surely come to him if there was anything he could do. Not that it was easy to get to her, now that the king kept her next to him like his favorite trophy.

Instead, he focused on the next joust. It was utterly boring. Despite their big egos, neither Brandon nor Mero was any good at jousting. Mediocre at best, neither of them had what it takes to win in this competition. They were already in their third round when both finally landed somewhat tolerable hits on one another. But neither left the saddle nor did their lances shatter, despite the loud crack Robert had heard in their third round.

When they charged at each other for the fourth tilt, something went terribly wrong. Robert wasn't sure when he had realized, but later he would claim that it was obvious the moment Brandon Stark raised his lance for the attack.

The Stark boy hit Mero's shield, with all the brute force he and his horse could muster. And his lance did shatter. But only a part of it, the blunted tip. The rest of the lance, now pointy and dangerous, was deflected by Mero's shield and hit the horse, just beneath the saddle. The animal whined loudly, as thick, red blood escaped from the gaping wound and forced the horse to the ground, pulling its rider down with it.

Mero had no time to react accordingly and as such he suddenly found himself in between the cold, hard ground and the dying form of his horse. He screamed in pain, loud enough for all to hear.

Robert and several other men ran towards the fallen man, to help him up. Even Brandon had jumped off his horse, obviously disturbed by this turn of events. But only with the combined strength of half a dozen men they succeeded in moving the dead horse, to free the broken form of the boy from Myr.

He was alive, but not in a good condition. They quickly brought a stretcher to carry him away, followed by a gaggle of knights and servants. They brought Mero back to his tent, where most of the men left after they had sated their curiosity. Robert didn't know why, but he stayed.

"Am I dead yet," Mero asked Robert, as he looked at him.

"No. And don't ask for it. I won't be the one to explain to Senna why the captain of her guard got killed by a fucking horse." Robert barked back.

Mero chuckled, amused by this, something that caused him to wince in pain. "Oh, she will be angry. No doubt about it. Wasn't happy at all when I said that I will joust. Said that I can't even ride a horse well enough to follow a straight line. Guess I'm really as dumb as a wall."

"And threefold as ugly now," all the remaining people in the tent looked surprised, as Senna entered, a deep frown on her face. "Look at you. Be glad that your father had some important business to take care of today because he will be furious once he finds out. At least this way you get some time to think of a good excuse."

"Can't be worse than your fury, princess," Mero chuckled.

"Blasted fool. Half the realm saw you getting crushed by that horse. This isn't like some stupid brawl, where I can get you a potion to help with the broken bones," Senna sighed, as she paced next to him. She tried to hide it, but Robert could see the worry in her eyes. "Your life is in the Maester's hands now. Pray that whatever fool they will send for doesn't botch his job up beyond repair."

"I will manage, princess," Mero assured her. He tried to look strong now, but Robert could see that he was in a lot of pain.

"We don't have much time, Mero. I'm not much of a healer, but I will numb the pain for now, so you won't suffer too much under this third rate butcher's care," she spoke scathingly. It was obvious that she wasn't impressed by what she had seen from the Maesters up to this point.

And seeing her anger so openly was also quite amusing for Robert. It was the obvious proof that she was far more than the jewel people saw her as, but rather a feisty woman, who knew when and where to show her true colors. He also realized that he should consider himself lucky, for being one of those she was willing to show this side of hers… without him being the target of her fury.

And again Robert stood on the side, as he watched Senna use her magic. It wasn't flashy, neither did it involve long incantations in a strange language. In comparison to the stories they tell little children about the old magic used by witches, the real deal seemed quite plain… and that made it even scarier. To know that this princess has such power at the tips of her fingers… and she can use it without anyone realizing it until it is too late. He was no coward and he wouldn't run from an honorable fight, but when he really considered her abilities, he almost feared what she might do. Still, he wouldn't run. He was a Baratheon of Storm's End and Baratheons never run away…

* * *

Rhaegar found her long past nightfall, deeply immersed in some scroll. She had left the tourney after the accident of her friend and had not returned since, much to the visible displeasure of the king. Rhaegar would have followed her, to talk to her about what had happened, but his duties and his father kept him for far longer than he had wanted.

But now that he had found her, he took a moment to study his young wife. She had yet to realize that he had entered their chambers, so she was entirely focused on the scroll on her lap. He wondered what had her enraptured like this, but he dared not ask yet. Instead, he marveled just how beautiful she looked.

Her silvery hair was flowing down her back and she wore only a simple robe over her nightclothes, that did little to hide her figure. And without all the jewelry and pretentious clothes she looked like a piece of art, so fragile that he dared not touch it out of fear he might do something to utterly ruin it.

His mother had warned him. She had warned him to maintain an emotional distance to his bride, at least until he had learned to read her better. No matter how alluring she may be, the past rivalry of their houses was something that should not be dismissed so easily. At least he, as the future king, had to be wary. But in a way, he found himself incapable of that. None of the people she had surrounded herself with were able to deny her charm.

"How much longer will you stand there and watch me, Rhaegar?" She smiled at him after she had torn her gaze away from her scroll.

He wondered, there was a hint of worry in those amethyst colored eyes of hers, but otherwise, she seemed calm and relaxed. Not like someone who had just watched a childhood friend getting crushed by a warhorse.

"Are you alright?" he asked, as he looked her in concern.

She laughed lightly, as she stood up from her place and stretched. "I'm tired. The Grand Maester is boring enough to put a raging dragon to sleep with his droning. And reading did little to wake me up after."

"Surely the Grand Maester can help your friend getting better," Rhaegar tried to reassure her. But as Senna laughed in amusement, he wondered just how much insanity she might have in her blood as well.

"I doubt that the man would be of any help. His lesser colleagues are even more useless. I was surprised he had not attempted a bloodletting to make Mero feel better," she shook her head, "Truly, I don't know why your people trust in the skills of these charlatans."

"You don't give them enough credit, my dear," Rhaegar assured her, "The Maesters serve all noble houses and as such they have rendered invaluable services to their lords."

"Well, they are useless as healers," Senna insisted, "And only serving the nobles, it is as if you want plagues to run rampant among the smallfolk."

Rhaegar sighed, as he saw how worked up she got because of this. For reasons beyond his understanding, this topic was of special interest to her. And this wasn't just because her friend getting hurt.

"I will have need of a place to set up a house of healing… for all people of this city," she declared, "I have gathered enough knowledge to teach others how to treat the simple ailments that ravage your people."

"You wish to teach others magic?" Rhaegar asked for clarification, "You said that magic only exists in the blood of Valyria and that it has to be nurtured."

She laughed again, "Not magic, Rhaegar. The most basic aid. I have collected countless scrolls on healing and the creation of herbal remedies. In fact, my family has several healing houses in Myr. Build some bathhouses for the general public and your people will not die needlessly. A healthy man is a productive man, Rhaegar."

"All this because of your friend?"

She shook her head, as she approached him and caressed his cheeks with her soft hands, "I don't like to see the people suffer. Mero's accident has been enlightening, as it showed me just how bad things really are here in Westeros when it comes to healing. So tell me, Rhaegar Targaryen, what kind of king do you intend to be?"

He had asked himself the same. What kind of king would he be? He had no answer to that question. There was the obvious answer, of course. The king that the realm needs after the reign of Aerys Targaryen. But now he had also Senna to consider. He had always expected that his wife would be some foolish, pliant little girl from a family so old that they can't even remember half of their ancestors. Senna's family was certainly ancient, like his own, but she was neither pliant nor foolish. She would rule by his side whether he liked it or not.

"I will be what the realm needs me to be," he told her calmly.

She kissed him then, a long and passionate kiss that left his lips tingling even after she had pulled back from him.

"You are a better man than your father. But for every bridge he burns, we will have to build trifold as many new ones if this realm is to survive," she told him softly.

But she soon adopted a blank look once more, as she saw the wistful grimace on his face, "I know, believe me, Senna, I know that. I have already begun negotiations with the great lords of the realm, to forge new alliances, despite my father's oppressive shadow."

"You have?"

He nodded, "Some are almost too eager to serve. The lord of the Reach, Mace Tyrell has offered me his full support, for the promise of a position on my council and one of his sisters as your lady-in-waiting."

Tyrell… she remembered the bumbling fool. A likable fellow, a bit like Neville Longbottom when she first met him, only with the added arrogance of a man born into power. All he had to share in their sole conversation so far had been empty phrases, the expected well wishes, and pleasantries. She had not talked to his sisters, though. They had kept to their mother, always whispering conspiratorially. Soon enough, however, she would get her chance to talk to them, during the gathering the queen had planned on the fifth day of the tourney.

"I can live with that… just don't make Lord Tyrell your hand, I doubt the realm would survive a man of his… talents in that position," she muttered.

Rhaegar was amused by her choice of words, as it was clear that she had come to the same conclusions as he had. "Don't worry, that position has already been promised to Lord Tywin Lannister."

"Good. He is the best choice," she agreed, "Just try to be on even ground with him. The people like to whisper that Tywin is the true king and that Aerys only wears the crown. Remind the people who is the king and who is the servant."

"There is more..."

"Obviously," she replied. He wasn't sure how long her pleasant smile would remain.

"Though the negotiations with Lord Tywin are still not finished yet, he has alluded to something that he expects me to do for him. He has little interest in riches and even without the title of Hand of the King, he would still be the most powerful among the lords of the realm. No, he wishes for a more open alliance between our houses," Rhaegar told her carefully. This wasn't easy for him to talk about, seeing as he had no idea how Senna would react.

"He wants one of the children we will eventually have," she said, her voice almost emotionless, just like her face. A blank mask, where not even her eyes would betray her true feelings.

And how could he blame her? They weren't even married for a week and everyone was already pressuring her to conceive as soon as possible. The last thing she needed was some marriage alliance involving children that have yet to be born.

"Unsurprisingly, Lord Tywin has great aspirations for House Lannister. A daughter of his blood marrying a prince or a princess marrying an heir of his family, there is hardly any way to gain more fame and power," Rhaegar wondered, what it would be in the end. He had narrowly escaped marrying Cersei Lannister, that pouting, and deceitful child, but now his son may be forced to marry whatever children Jaime Lannister may produce in the future. Was it right to force his possible children to do what he was willing to prevent for himself at all cost? Likely not, but his hands were tied.

"The next time you negotiate with Lord Tywin, I will be there as well," Senna said. The look on her face made it clear that this was not a request, but an order. One that Rhaegar would follow.

She smiled, as she saw him nod and it seemed like there was a lot of tension leaving her body now. Had this been a test? Had she attempted to see how truthful he had been, when he had asked her to be his partner? Maybe, but seeing her beatific smile washed away any reservations he might have had about this.

"Enough of these dull topics. I year for the comfort of the night. We should go to bed, my dear husband," she told him, as she walked away from him and towards the bedchamber.

She did not get far, as he followed her quickly and embraced her from behind. He kept her in his arms, as his hands began to explore her curves and he whispered in her ear, "Sleep can wait for some more time, my lovely wife. There are much more… pleasurable things for us to do in bed."

She moaned loudly, as he caressed her breasts with one hand while the other searched for a way beneath the folds of her robe. She allowed his hands to wander, clearly enjoying his ministrations, as she answered huskily, "Just what made you think that sleep had been on my mind, my dashing prince?"

He whirled her around and captured her lips again in a kiss, a battle for dominance that she soon enough allowed him to win. And as he picked her up to carry her to bed, both of them knew that sleep would not be on their mind for hours to come.

* * *

Senna skipped the fourth day of the tourney, unwilling to endure the king's presence for longer than necessary. And none of the men she would care to see were due to joust on that day. Robert and Mero had both been eliminated and Rhaegar would not ride again until the last day.

But much to her ire, the king had sent her husband out on some menial errand, keeping him from the city for at least a day or two, so Senna was alone. Yet it didn't bother her half as much as she would have believed.

Because of the tourney, the Red Keep was almost deserted. Even most of the servants had gone to watch the jousting, so for the first time since the whole insanity had begun, she was able to enjoy the gardens alone and undisturbed.

Much to her joy, Fawkes decided to pay her a visit and sang for her. It was always so calming when the phoenix did this, but it also reminded her of home. Of Myr, where the phoenix had been an almost constant companion. Hardly a day passed without him visiting her. But here… Fawkes did not like the crowded keep and he was quite picky with who he would allow to see him…

So she wandered through the gardens, the bird on her shoulder, not caring for anything. The sounds of the city and the tourney were nothing more than faint whispers here, where only the sea far beneath the cliffs was an ever-present drum against the steep cliffs.

But as she reached the Godswood, which had blossomed here since the days before the Andal invasion, she finally met the first another person, who had decided against watching the tourney.

It was a girl, young by the looks, with dark hair and a lithe build. She sat on the ground, her back leaning against the large oak, which stood at the center of a group of elm black cottonwood trees. There was a deep frown on the girl's face, as she pulled her legs against her chest and buried her face in her knees. She wasn't crying, Senna was sure of that, but rather, she was frowning.

But as the princess got closer, Fawkes left her shoulder and took up residence on one of the thick branches of the oak. He continued to sing, which quickly caught the attention of the girl beneath him. Then she realized that Senna was close to her as well. But Senna also recognized the girl, now that she looked at her with wide gray eyes. It was Lyanna Stark, Ned's little sister. The one who was supposed to marry Robert…

Lyanna jumped up from her place, alerted by the presence of someone else and pulled a dagger from the folds of her clothing. Senna had no idea why, but the girl's sudden hostility was almost amusing.

"Who are you? Has my brother sent you to drag me back? I won't go. I'm not here to play doll for my father. I won't!" the girl shouted.

And Senna laughed. A girl that rejects her place in society, how very curious. But judging by the customs of the Andals, especially when it comes to women, Senna was rather glad that she had been born in Myr. Or was it her role as the last Peverell that had afforded her this much leeway?

The girl, however, saw Senna's amusement as a slight and dashed forward, dagger in hand. All around her were trees and bushes, so she saw her only chance to escape in getting passed Senna, but the princess was hardly inclined to allow any attack against her.

Senna muttered a spell and hit the ground with her staff. The magic took hold of the girl immediately. She froze mid-stride, a fearful expression on her face. And what else was the girl supposed to feel? Not a single muscle complied and she was stuck in place. Helpless.

"Now that you have some time to cool off, I would advise you to take a deep breath and use your brain, little wolf," Senna said, as she smiled at the girl. "I am not your enemy and I have no intention to hurt Eddard's little sister." Nor would she be willing to suffer Robert's temper tantrum. Seriously, the boy was so utterly fixated on marrying a girl he hardly knows, he was worse than Ron Weasley on a love potion at times.

"You know my brother?" Lyanna asked.

Senna was quite impressed by this. It took quite a lot of concentration and strength to overcome a full binding spell. Or maybe there was more to this girl than she had expected. A different form of magic perhaps? Something only the descendants of the First Men have? She would have to find out.

"Girl, are you blind?" Senna asked her.

Only then Lyanna realized who she was actually talking to. Senna couldn't contain her laughter, as the girl's eyes widened and her face lost some color. Her defiance was quickly replaced by fear. Not the reaction Senna had hoped for. But it was understandable, considering the history of House Targaryen and the infamy of the current king. Lyanna had just tried to attack a royal princess and that was an offense that even the children of the greatest houses would be punished for. Severely punished.

"Your grace, I..."

"Relax," Senna said, as she released the girl from her spell. Lyanna stumbled at first, but Senna stepped forward to steady her. "You were upset and acted rashly. No harm was done and no one has to hear about this misunderstanding." Senna's tone left no room for argument and Lyanna wisely kept her mouth shut.

"So, would you mind telling me why you were out here, pouting like a little child?" Senna asked.

Lyanna glared at her, obviously displeased by being called a little child, "I am not a child. And I am not running away from anything!"

"I've never accused you of running," Senna sang before she smirked at the girl. "But let me guess, your brothers have done something that upset you."

"You wouldn't understand," Lyanna groused. "You just went ahead and married the man you were sold to. I won't be like that. I won't accept that!"

"Being rebellious won't save you, little wolf," Senna told her, "At the moment you are nothing but a pouting child. You don't like your lot in life? Then stand up and try to change it."

"They won't allow it. My father and my brothers will force me to marry that brute!" Lyanna replied angrily.

"Robert is hardly a brute," Senna told her, "He loves to fight and drink. And he has a bad habit of whoring too much, but he is a good man."

"You say it yourself, he would never respect me!"

"Just like you don't respect him? You hardly know Robert, yet you are convinced that he would continue with this even after you are married! He might change, he might remain the same, but unless you talk to him you will never know."

"He will," Lyanna replied stubbornly.

Senna could only shake her head in consternation, "I tire of arguing with you, stubborn child," she said. She had met others like her before, people who could never be convinced of anything. Too stubborn for her own good. "Believe what you want, Lyanna. But heed my advice, nothing will change as long as you sit here and pout."

She looked at the girl one more time, shook her head as she saw the defiance in her eyes and left. She had wanted to relax for a bit. A chance to clear her mind, but now she was just angry. Angry at that foolish girl, who was so close minded in comparison to her brother. And angry at herself, because she had allowed herself to get worked up like this.

But as she quickly walked away from the Godswood, she saw someone else coming her way. Another Northman, judging by his clothing. The direwolf of House Stark shone prominently on his doublet. It was Eddard's older brother, Brandon Stark, the heir to Winterfell. She recognized him from the day before when his lance killed Mero's horse.

"Good day to you, princess," he greeted her cordially. He even bowed respectfully. But the way his eyes roamed, was far from innocent.

"Lord Stark," she replied.

"I am surprised to see you here, all alone," Brandon continued, a flirtatious smirk on his lips, "What man would leave a woman such as you alone? Were you mine, I would not leave your side..."

"Sadly for you, I am married to Prince Rhaegar. Quite happily as well. So you will have to leave me alone now," she replied, a strained smile on her lips. The temper of one Stark was already enough to ruin her day, there was no sense in indulging the lustful fantasies of this man.

"As you say, princess," Brandon replied, "Then by your leave. I have a sister to find." Somehow she was sure that this wouldn't be the end of it. She could only hope that he wouldn't be foolish enough to try this again, her husband and most of the other knights would punish such behavior severely.

"Try the godswood. But be careful, her dagger is faster than her common sense at the moment," Senna replied simply before she continued on her way back to the keep. On this day, she decided that of all the Starks, Eddard was her favorite. The others… well it would be better for them to return to the North. But she also remembered her promise to Robert. She would at least try to make Lyanna see reason. A fool's errand for sure.

* * *

"Be mindful of these women, my dear. All of them are of the greatest noble houses and your actions here will be of interest to the king's most important vassals," Queen Rhaella told her daughter-in-law, as they entered the Queen's ballroom.

At first, it was almost too bright for Senna, as the beaten silver mirrors around the room reflected the light twice as bright as usual. But the room certainly had great appeal, as it wasn't as big as the throne room, but much more lavishly decorated. It was certainly well suited for situations such as this.

"I will certainly not embarrass my husband," Senna declared evenly,

Rhaella nodded, a smile on her lips, "Good," she replied. "You will have to choose your companions from these ladies. Three at least, but no more than five. Too few would show favoritism, but too many would be too hard to keep an eye on."

"I know," Senna nodded, "I have already chosen two."

"You have?" The queen looked surprised, though she quickly regained her composure.

"Yes. Ashara Dayne and Mina Tyrell."

"Rhaegar spoke of the Dayne girl. A favor for Ser Arthur, I believe. I won't question his choice, it will certainly be good to have another Dayne in the keep. Ser Arthur had been a good influence on my son."

"Are you implying that I am in need of good influence as well?" Senna replied in mock indignation.

But the queen did not answer at first. Instead, she only smiled benignly and walked on. But there was something about her, that made Senna curious. It had been quite warm these past days, yet the queen always wears dresses with long sleeves and high collars. Even for a prudish person, she showed exceptionally little skin.

"I am quite curious about this Dayne girl, that is all," Rhaella finally said.

"I have yet to meet her, but she has received glowing recommendations from both Rhaegar and Ser Arthur," Senna told her. But she did not pay their conversation as much attention as she should, instead, she still watched her mother-in-law with some suspicion.

The way the queen moved, the way she acted and how she shied away from any physical contact, it was highly suspicious. And Senna had not forgotten her first life and how she had hidden the bruises and wounds her cousin had inflicted on her. Dudley was never wrong and his parents would have punished her former self, had there been any proof of abuse. So she had been rather proficient at hiding bruises. The queen's actions reminded her a lot of this. Just like the fact that Rhaella had not been seen in the days after the incident in the Dragonpit.

"Are you feeling unwell, your grace?" Senna asked carefully.

The queen's smile waned slightly, but she only shook her head, "Don't mind me, my dear. I am here to support you. I just can't leave you alone with all these noble born ladies. They would eat you alive."

Senna laughed nervously. Was this a joke or did she mean it? How bad could these women be? She had managed to survive the old harpies in Myr, who bothered her every day to convince her to marry one of their sons.

They continued on their way into the ballroom, where at least three dozen women were waiting for them. A small army of servants catered to the ladies' needs.

The ladies stood huddled in little groups, talking animatedly among themselves. But all of them fell silent when they saw the queen and the princess enter. They curtsied respectfully, though some of them made not attempt to hide the disdain on their faces as they did so.

Senna could only sigh as she realized that this would be a long evening. Maybe there were too many insulted egos, too many pretty ladies who had hoped for a chance to be Rhaegar's wife. And some of them would have to serve her as her ladies-in-waiting. Oh joy.

It didn't take long for the first of the women to approach them. The first was a young woman, maybe a few years older than Senna, with long brown hair and warm brown eyes.

"Your grace," the woman bowed before the queen first, "Princess," before she shifted her attention towards Senna. "I wish to express my gratitude for your decision to take me on as one of your ladies, Princess Senna."

Senna only nodded benignly. She rued that she knew almost none of the women here and now even one of the two she had already chosen as her ladies had approached her and she didn't even know who she was. But Lady Mina had obviously not realized that… or maybe she didn't really care.

"It is a pleasure to have you at court, Lady Mina," the queen replied, "Too long have we lacked the beautiful roses of Highgarden in our halls."

Senna decided against commenting on this, as she knew that it would be better to follow the queen's lead here. This whole meeting was only a celebration of falseness and idle insults, hidden among innocent pleasantries.

"I can't wait for us to get better acquainted, princess," Mina said eagerly.

She seemed almost too eager in Senna's opinion. There was something suspicious about her.

"We will have plenty of time for that," Senna told her cordially. "Why don't you join me tomorrow before the final of the joust? We can talk in a more private setting."

"I would be delighted, Princess Senna," Mina told her, a happy smile on her face. She soon scurried off and rejoined her sister and mother on the other side of the room, where Senna could see them whisper for the rest of the evening.

"Be careful with the Tyrells, Senna," the queen cautioned her. "They are an ambitious lot. The women even more than the men. I don't know why you have chosen one of them to stay with you, but I hope you know what you are getting into here."

They continued to make their round, greeting the many different noblewomen. Especially the older women among the crowd seemed rather aloof. They chose their words carefully, never allowing Senna to determine whose side they were really on. But one thing was for sure, none of them were happy to see a foreigner as their next queen… Senna, however, cared little for their foolish likes and dislikes. Most of these women were little more than decoration for the halls of their husbands.

"Over there is Cersei Lannister. Lord Tywin's only daughter," the queen pointed out, as they approached the golden haired child.

The Lannister girl was quite pretty like masterfully crafted doll with long blond hair and beautiful green eyes. There was no denying it, in a few more years this girl would mature into a stunning young woman. And then she would be the most sought-after lady in the Seven Kingdoms. Yet there was one thing that marred her beauty. The frown on her face, that she failed to conceal whenever she looked at Senna.

"Lady Cersei, come and join us," the queen ordered the girl, much to Cersei's obvious displeasure. Following the orders of others was not her strong suit as it seemed. Or maybe she just disliked the company too much to care for propriety. She moved towards them, though only begrudgingly.

"Your grace," Cersei greeted the queen courtly, "How can I be of service."

"Tell me, has your father decide on where to send you once the tourney is over?" The queen asked. It was a rather innocent question, but one that Cersei obviously did not like to consider it.

"Not yet, your grace," Cersei replied.

The queen hummed lightly, much to Senna's confusion. Why Rhaella was talking to Cersei like this was a mystery to her. Maybe there was some form of animosity here. But so far she had only heard about Aerys' quarrel with Tywin. Yet the queen obviously tried to make this girl feel uncomfortable.

"Very well, you are dismissed, Cersei," Rhaella said before she steered Senna away from the seething girl.

Once they were a bit away from the girl, Senna asked, "What was this about? Why did you irritate her like this?"

A sad smile played on the queen's lips, as she looked towards Cersei once more. "There was a time when her mother had been a good friend of mine. She had been one of my ladies… but our relationship soured."

"What happened?"

"She had decided to become my husband's bedwarmer. The Lannister women are rather dangerous in that regard. Cersei needs to understand that she is not welcome here. But banishing her for her mother's offense would only alienate her father further from us. But she was rather obsessed with my son. I don't want her to continue with her delusions."

Senna was surprised by this revelation. She had known before that Cersei had wished to be Rhaegar's wife. But she had no idea about her mother's involvement with Aerys. It was both surprising and… disconcerting. Who would willingly join the madman's bed?

"Keep an eye on the Lannister girl. I doubt that she will give up anytime soon. She has obviously inherited her mother's beauty, but not much of her character," Rhaella continued. "I don't want to see you suffer the same indignity that I had to endure."

It was possibly the most honest thing the queen had ever said to her. It showed a level of concern that Senna would not have expected. It made her happy to know that there might be a chance for more than just a cordial relationship with her mother-in-law. Rhaegar obviously held his mother in high regard and Senna dared not test whose side her would pick, should she and the queen ever but heads.

As they continued on their round, the queen introduced Senna to several more ladies of great importance. Among them were Mina's sister and mother, the ladies Janna Tyrell and Olenna Redwyne. Especially the latter seemed quite shrewd and calculating. A schemer, who would without a doubt play her little games with all of them, should they give her the chance to do it.

She even saw Lyanna Stark for a few moments, though she decided against talking to her. She knew that she still had to fulfill the promise she had given Robert, but she was still peeved at this girl. Maybe there would be more time to talk to this girl later.

But the longer they walked around, the more Senna realized that the queen felt unwell. It was well disguised at first. But as the evening started to wear her down, Rhaella showed more and more signs of pain. She soldiered on, but it was obvious that she would need to leave soon.

"Maybe we should retire for the night," Senna offered.

Rhaella forced a pleasant smile on her face and shook her head, "Don't be ridiculous, child. We still have some guests to attend to. Princess Elia of Dorne has been waiting to talk to you and it wouldn't do to insult her like this..." she stumbled slightly, but Senna quickly steadied her. Luckily none of the guests had seen it.

"Nonsense. I will talk to Elia separately. Her brother is an old acquaintance of mine, so no one would see it as blatant favoritism."

She took the queen's arm, to lead her out of the ballroom, but let go when the woman winced. But Rhaella allowed her daughter-in-law to usher her out of the room and towards the place where two knights of the Kingsguard were already waiting for their charges. They had left just in time. The queen collapsed the moment the other ladies had lost sight of them.

The knights, Prince Lewyn, and Ser Jonothor Darry were quickly by their side, alert and ready to defend their queen and princess if necessary.

"What has happened? Has there been an attack? Or poison?" Prince Lewyn asked, a concerned look on his face.

"No," Senna answered angrily. She knew that it was not right to do this against the queen's will, but Rhaella was unconscious and she had to know. So she pushed the long sleeves of the queen's dress up. What she saw made her wince. Her arm was riddled with cuts and bruises, signs of severe abuse.

"By the Seven's mercy," Ser Jonothor muttered. "He did this. Her own husband, our king."

"It is not our place to judge him, Jonothor," Prince Lewyn said darkly. "Hurry now. We must return her grace to her rooms and send for the Grand Maester. There is nothing else we can do."

Senna wanted to yell at these men, who would allow such a transgression against their queen, just because the monster who had done it was their course, she knew that the Kingsguard had only sworn to protect the king and that their presence here was merely a show of strength to discourage any attempts on the members of the royal family… but it only intensified her anger. Aerys was truly a monster like no other. And sooner, rather than later, she would run out of excuses to allow the man to live. Not even for Rhaegar's sake.

* * *

Once more she stood in the throne room, before the monstrosity that was the Iron Throne. And on it sat a whole different kind of monster, in the guise of this gaunt and unkempt man, who wears the crown as if it weighed tons and dragged him down.

Yet, this time, their meeting was different. In the distance, they could hear the faint sounds of cheering. The tourney had already resumed, now on its seventh and last day of the jousting. Everyone was there to watch, everyone but her, the king and the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. She had even sent away her own guards, to face the king alone.

So now she stood there before him, dressed in white and golden robes, her arms bare except for the golden bracelets she wore. She looked every bit like a queen at that very moment, her back straight, her face carefully schooled to show no emotion and her stuff firmly gripped in her right hand as if it was meant to be a scepter.

"Lord Commander, leave us," the king commanded. The knight obeyed without hesitation, though he watched Senna on his way out with barely concealed distrust.

Once the doors of the throne room had closed behind the knight, the king resumed, "You will hatch me a dragon today, daughter," the king ordered impatiently, "You know the secrets, your blasted family has always written everything down."

"I refuse," Senna replied indignantly. "I only promised you the eggs, nothing more. And no matter what you do, I will not help you burn even more innocent people."

There was nothing but hatred in her voice now. She had no qualms to let him know her feelings. She had stopped to care, when she had spent half of the night at the queen's bedside, using her sparse knowledge of healing spells to deal with her numerous wounds.

She expected the king to rage, to scream of treason and threaten her and all those she holds dear. Instead, the man laughed at her. His body shook so much with laughter, that it looked as if he would fall from his throne any minute now.

"And you think that your magic will give you the power needed to keep me at bay? Foolish girl," Aerys spat. "Go ahead, use it. Try to usurp my throne with the legacy of Valyria."

She smirked at him, maliciously, as she regarded him. "Magic is not a crutch to do your every bidding," she said, "Men like you would never understand it. You crave for all that isn't yours even though you have already been given a whole realm." She turned away from him, not willing to waste any more time on madmen and their delusions. "I will go to the tourney now. I wish to reward my husband, once he wins the joust."

But as she walked away, heavy footsteps followed her through the otherwise empty hall. It was a man, though like neither the king nor the lord commander, seeing as the former was not the type to run after women and the later was in heavy armor, which would have made sounds of its own. But the king's lack of reaction made it clear that whoever this was, he was one of his servants.

Her pursuer grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back before he placed a dagger at her throat. And the king laughed loudly, assured of his victory.

"So you see, my dear daughter, not even you are safe. You will do as I tell you or you will pay the price for your defiance." Aerys rasped.

Now it was Senna's turn to chuckle. She had her fair share of moments where she had to endure such a threat to her life. A knife at her throat… it had happened several times in her past life. None of her assailants had lived to tell the tale.

"You do believe that you have won. Fool," she declared.

"You can die, just like all of us. One order from me and my friend here will cut your throat. No more witch powers, no more Peverells," Aerys cackled, "But it would a waste. Can't let you die before you have given my son some heirs to inherit your powers."

Senna narrowed her eyes and glared at the king, not that Aerys would have bothered. But she saw another servant enter, with one of the dragon eggs in his hands. The servant placed it in the center of the throne room before he made a hasty retreat.

"Now you will hatch this dragon for me, my dear. Or I will find a way to do it, even if that means that I have to sacrifice all those you hold dear to lure the dragon out of his shell," Aerys snarled. "Do it."

Words could barely describe the anger she felt at that moment. This man, no this monster, who would kill innocents to fulfill his ambitions. This monster who would beat his wife and rape her whenever he felt like it. This monster would die, she would see to that. Even if this would mean to ignore Rhaegar's plans to usurp his father's throne without violence.

"Release me at once," Senna declared evenly.

"And give you the chance to flee? You must consider me an utter fool to believe that I would trust you like that," the king cackled. "But go ahead. Do your magic and unleash the beast. You can do as much, even with a knife at your throat."

She disliked this situation. Not because she was unable to escape, but because she would have to allow this man the illusion of winning. But it would be necessary.

"If I must," she tried to sound dejected and judging by the feral grin on Aerys face, was sure that he had won.

"Don't even think about fooling me, daughter, the moment you try anything against me, you will be struck down by my guards. A crossbow bolt to the heart should kill even you," the king told her, as his servant slowly released her from the choke-hold. The knife remained at her throat none the less.

"No matter what I do now, it will take some time for the dragon to hatch," she told the king icily. "I will cast the ritual I've learned from the old scrolls, but nothing more. Whether the dragon hatches or not depends on your ability to keep warm. The hotter the better."

"Do it!" Aerys ordered, a greedy look on his face, "And someone fetch me those alchemists. I need more wildfire!"

Senna closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath before she approached the egg. Her assailant kept up with her, so the knife did not move away from her throat. But it did not matter. She began the chant for a spell she had learned in her previous life. It was a long and intricate chant and at its end, the egg began to glow brightly.

"Keep it hot for a day or two and the dragon should hatch. If not I will reapply the ritual," she told the king.

"What have you done?"

"The ritual rouses the dragon from its slumber," she said, "Now it is upon you to lure it out of its shells."

"Leave now. See to it that my son will have an heir soon!" Aerys ordered. His servant quickly retreated from her and disappeared from sight, leaving her once more free and safe.

She spared the king one more disdainful look, as he stood before the glowing dragon egg. She had no idea why, but she wanted to remember this particular picture. The madman and his downfall, as if Aerys would ever be able to tame a dragon… she scoffed.

Then she quickly left, to meet with her entourage, so she would hopefully arrive in time for the final joust. She passed the Lord Commander on her way out, who was about to return to his king's side. The man scowled, as usual when he saw her, but neither he nor anyone else would stop her.

And she was lucky, as she managed to reach the stands just in time for Rhaegar's final joust. He would face Ser Arthur, who had joined the competition at the prince's behest.

"There you are, my dear," the queen greeted her warmly. She even stood up and embraced Senna warmly, a gesture that was not lost on all the people around them. "I don't know what you did, but I thank you. I can barely feel any pain now."

"I wish I could have helped you sooner. You suffered for too long," Senna replied.

The queen laughed lightly, "I am not that frail, my dear daughter."

"Sister!" Viserys soon demanded attention and, as usual, he wanted to sit on Senna's lap. "You seem happy." the child commented, as he saw her smile.

"I am, Viserys. I'm very happy. This will be a good day," Senna told the young boy. "I have you with me and your brother will win this tourney for the honor of our family. All is well."

"I want to win tourneys, too!"

"One day you will, Viserys. You will be a great knight and loved by all the people in the realm," Senna said, as she hugged the boy to her chest.

She saw the queen next to her, who smiled at the scene. In a moment like this, when Aerys was not with them, they actually seemed like a real and happy family. And Senna vowed to herself that she would do everything to keep it this way.

Much to her joy Rhaegar triumphed once more. But Arthur was truly a formidable knight and forced Rhaegar to ride no less than sixteen times against him before he was pushed out of his saddle. But the crowd cheered frenetically for the price, as he rode past their stands before he dismounted in front of the royal stands. Myles brought him the crown, made out of white flowers.

Rhaegar slowly approached Senna, who was waiting for him before the stands, to reward the victor of the tourney. As he had reached her, he knelt down and presented her the crown of flowers.

"My beloved wife, the only woman deserving of this crown are you. You are my Queen of Love and Beauty," he said.

Senna could feel how her feelings for this man only grew as he placed himself at her feet. She took the crown from him and placed it on her head, as he rose from the crowd.

"Beloved husband, my shining knight. You won this tourney… and my heart," she said before she kissed him.

She was well aware that this was hardly the appropriate place to do this and that many of the prudish nobles would frown upon this. But all the other people cheered for them and all that mattered to her at the moment was that Rhaegar returned the kiss readily. Yes, loving him wouldn't be too hard.

Their moment of bliss ended soon, though, as a loud explosion silenced the crowd, only to be replaced by cries of shock and fear. Their attention was no longer on the royal couple but on the Red Keep behind them. There was fire, large flames raging where the throne room was supposed to be. And as Rhaegar and all the men ran towards the keep, to do whatever they could to contain the flames, Senna remained behind, a small smirk on her lips.

"Fire and blood… yeah right," she muttered, as she followed the crowd.


	9. Long may he reign

Oberyn watched with great curiosity, as his sister sat next to Senna, making idle small talk while they enjoy a light afternoon snack. It was a nice, cozy afternoon, in the widespread gardens of the Red Keep and had it not been for the black smoke that still escaped from the smoldering throne room of the keep, the scene would have been almost serene.

He still remembered how she had loved her little celebrations in Myr. He had only enjoyed her hospitality for a short time, but looking at her now, he almost rued the way they had parted. Even now she was rather distant and only allowed him to be within sight of her meeting with his sister. To reassure him that no harm would befall Elia. He snorted as he thought about her words. It was her way to punish him. Everyone enjoys her presence and only those who had earned her ire were pushed away.

"So, you've known the lady before?" Oberyn looked over to his current companion. One of the most recent additions to the princess' personal guard. Thoros of Myr, the strange Red Priest, who had won the melee.

"Met her in Myr, though it has been some years since then. She wasn't older than ten and two at that time," Oberyn replied. "Earned her friendship, earned her ire, haven't seen her since," he explained briefly.

Thoros shot him a pitying look before he returned his gaze towards the two women at the gazebo. "She is quite something, the young lady. Even the high and mighty in Volantis wanted to have a piece of her. Still do, actually."

"Is that why you are here?" Oberyn asked him. He was well aware that the Red Temple in Volantis had its own agenda and he wouldn't be surprised that even the sudden presence of a Red Priest in King's Landing was not a coincidence.

Thoros laughed. "Far from it, my friend. I came here to fight and drink. And they told me that the whorehouses here are among the best. Clean and discrete, just how I like my whores," he said.

"It's not like you lack the coin now," they shared a laugh after this.

"I'm just glad that I got my gold before..." he pointed towards the smoking windows, "…well, this!"

"Lucky you!"

"So… your sister. What's her deal with the lady?" Thoros inquired.

Oberyn had wondered about this himself. Elia had been present during the queen's little celebration. But Senna had not spoken to her on that occasion. Instead, she had invited her here, for an informal and much more personal conversation. The big question now was, why?

But it wasn't the only strange thing now. Senna's behavior was highly odd. Her calmness, despite the dire situation. A fire had ravaged a large part of the Red Keep and quite a lot of people had died in the attempt to put the fire out. Prince Rhaegar ran himself ragged in his attempts to deal with the outcome of this tragedy, but his wife was the personification of serenity. Just being near her calmed the people.

"Look, someone's coming," Thoros said. Both of them were alert, if only for a moment, before they allowed themselves to relax again, as they saw the newcomer more closely, "Ah, it is only the little lady, the princess new companion."

Oberyn watched as a lovely young girl approached his sister and the princess. He was sure that he had seen her before, but the name eluded him at the moment. But Thoros obviously knew her.

"Who is she?"

Thoros have him a look as if he was an utter imbecile. "That is Lady Ashara Dayne. One of Lady Senna's ladies-in-waiting."

"She is a princess, not a lady," Oberyn corrected Thoros, though the Red Priest only snorted in reply.

"Here she is, of course. But she is a Lady of Myr, one of the greatest we have. Even when you place a crown on her head, she will always be our lady," Thoros explained. There was some pride in his voice when he spoke of Myr and Senna's importance to the city.

The Dornish prince remained silent after this and kept his eyes trained on the women. Elia looked happy. That was a good thing. It was obvious that she got along well with the princess… he only wished that he could join them. But Senna was good at holding grudges. He wasn't the first to suffer her displeasure and he likely wouldn't be the last. Maybe if he brought Nymeria with him. His daughter looks so very much like her mother and maybe seeing this little part of her late friend might placate the princess… or it would only intensify her hatred of him for getting Trianna pregnant in the first place…

"Your sister is coming this way," Thoros told him.

He looked up and truly saw Elia walking towards him. Senna and Ashara were leaving in another direction. Thoros quickly followed them at a respectful distance.

"She still does not like you," was the first thing Elia said, as she reached her brother. Oberyn chuckled, not surprised by this revelation. "But for the sake of peace, she is willing to tolerate you."

"Really?"

"Yes, Oberyn. She knows that you won't leave anytime soon, so she will try to tolerate your presence. Just try not to flirt with her… or any of her ladies and her friends."

Oberyn was surprised by this. So far he had not made any plans to stay. In fact, he had considered traveling some more. "And why is the princess so sure that I will stay?"

Elia smiled knowingly at him. It annoyed him when she looks like this and she knows it very well. "I will stay here at court, as one of the princess' ladies-in-waiting. Surely you wouldn't want to leave me alone here?"

"She offered you a place at court?"

"Yes. And I have agreed to stay. Princess Senna needs all the help she can get in this snake pit and I intend to aid her to the best of my knowledge." Elia declared evenly. "You may stay here with me or I will ask Doran to send someone else."

"No need. We had a tourney, chaos, and a large, deadly fire. I won't let you of my sight for one second," Oberyn replied indignantly. "I just hope you know what you are getting into here."

* * *

It was deadly silent in the main chamber of the White Sword Tower. Three knights of the Kingsguard sat unmoving around the large table, as they contemplated their situation.

Its was a sad day for them. Their lord commander, the much respected Ser Gerold Hightower, had perished in the fire and now they were both leaderless as well as uncertain about their task. The fire should not have happened. It was their duty to protect the king against all threats, yet they had allowed those accursed alchemists to waltz right into the Red Keep with jars full of wildfire. It was a disgrace.

The door, the only entrance to the room, opened, and two men entered. One was their sworn brother, Ser Arthur Dayne, whom they greeted with little more than grunts of acknowledgment. For the other one, though, they jumped to their feet and salute him in utmost respect. It was Prince Rhaegar, who looked grim, as he had done ever since the fire.

"Your grace," Ser Oswell was the first to greet the man, but before the others could do anything similar, the prince motioned for them to sit down again.

So they sat down. Four knights of the Kingsguard, all who could come for this meeting. And they all knew why they were here. The lord commander was dead, so it was time to choose his successor, someone from those who were left.

"We all know why we are here," Rhaegar began, "Lord Commander Hightower is dead and the whole situation is precarious for the royal family. The Kingsguard cannot be allowed to go on without proper leadership. Too many enemies out there wait for a moment of weakness, but we will not be taken by surprise."

"Who shall be our next leader, your grace," Ser Barristan Selmy asked.

All the knights in the room looked around, at their brothers, trying to determine whom they would like to see as their next commander. It wasn't an easy choice to make and usually, it would fall to the king… but circumstances force their hands now and the prince would have to choose for them.

"My friends, I will be frank with you as I hope you are with me as well. The Lord Commander's death has hit us at the most inopportune time and we now have to choose a replacement from the six of you who are left," Rhaegar said. "Most would expect me to choose Ser Arthur, yet I would not dare to. He would be a great commander, one of the best, maybe. But his tenure would be stained by the constant whispers of nepotism. Arthur and I have talked long and extensively about this and we both agree that we cannot in good conscience allow this honored position to be debased in such a way."

Arthur stood up and looked at his sworn brothers, as he leaned on the table and spoke to them, "Only the best among us should lead. But we also have to follow traditions and procedure when we choose our next commander. Often the position was given to the wisest and longest serving members of the guard, which in our case would be Ser Harlan." He gestures towards the oldest man at the table.

Ser Harlan Grandison had been a Kingsguard at a time when some of them had been little boys. His service had begun under the rule of Lord Commander Duncan the Tall and King Aegon. He had seen more summers and winters than most and never wavered in his loyalty.

But now the old knight grumbled, "You will do no such thing, boy," he grunted. "I've seen enough to know that this is a terrible idea. Let me enjoy those few days left in me doing my duty, but don't burden me with a title too great for my weary shoulders."

"Surely you jest. You may be old, but you are still a better fighter than most..." Arthur began, but the old man interrupted him again.

"You are right. I'm old, boy. Too old. Spare yourself the hassle to search for a new commander in a year or two and do the right thing now," Ser Harlan barked, much to Rhaegar's amusement, "There is only one man here deserving of this honor. Only one of our brother's who has shown strength, loyalty and dedication." He raised his hand and pointed at the man sitting opposite of him, "That is the only man you should honor with this burden. Ser Barristan the Bold. The finest among us."

Rhaegar watched as the other knights nodded in agreement. Of course, there were two of them missing at the moment. Ser Jonothor was still guarding his mother and brother and Prince Lewyn was following orders to keep an eye on Senna at all times. But Rhaegar doubted that they would disagree. Neither of them had ever shown ambition to take this title. And Ser Barristan was both a celebrated tourney champion and an accomplished soldier, who had won a great many battles. Especially his victory against the last Blackfyre pretender had earned him much fame and admiration.

"Very well," Rhaegar announced, "Then I hereby declare Ser Barristan Selmy the new Lord Commander of the Kingsguard."

The other knights applauded their brother, who looked both surprised and humbled by their respect and his own new position.

"Rise, Ser Barristan and add your name to those of the Lord Commanders in the White Book," Rhaegar ordered.

Ser Barristan got up slowly, clearly in disbelief about what had happened just now. But as he added his name to the book, his hand was steady and his mind was set. He wouldn't be weak, he would be the Lord Commander the royal family would need now.

"I will prove myself worthy of this honor, your grace," he told Rhaegar, as he knelt before the prince.

"Rise, Ser Barristan. There is much to do and only so little time to do it," Rhaegar said.

"At once, your grace," the knight replied. "My brothers and I shall resume our duties now. Fear not, we will find the enemies of the crown that hide inside this city. No more harm shall befall the royal family."

The other knights got up as well and bowed before their prince before they left the room. Ser Barristan retreated to the study of the Lord Commander, likely to find out what Ser Gerold had been up to before his unfortunate death. Only Arthur remained at Rhaegar's side.

The prince sighed deeply and sat down in one of the chairs the other knights had vacated. Just a moment of rest, he vowed to himself. Just one small moment in this chaos, to catch a breath and think.

"Are you alright, Rhaegar?" Arthur asked. There was great concern on his face, as he looked at his friend.

"Just a moment of rest," the prince said.

Arthur frowned, clearly not believing that this would be enough, "You cannot do everything on your own, Rhaegar. You have plenty of people to help you..."

"No. This disaster is my burden to carry," the prince replied. "All the important lords of the realm have seen the fire in the throne room. They have seen the heart of the Seven Kingdoms consumed by the hungry flames."

"Still. You are worthless to the realm in your current condition. Let other people handle the ruling for a day or two. Go to your wife, enjoy your life a bit. And maybe the two of you can give the people some nice little dragons to forget what has happened here," Arthur laughed, as he saw Rhaegar's look of indignation.

"I don't even know where Senna is at the moment," he lamented, "She wanted to meet with Princess Elia this morning, but I know little about her plans after that."

"Maybe she is in the dungeons, playing with that little… monster," Arthur mused. "Ashara should be with her right now. She was so happy yesterday after she had met Princess Senna for the first time. Apparently they have immediately taken a liking to each other."

"I'm glad. Senna will need some new friends, now that our guests from Myr are due to leave," Rhaegar said. He truly hoped that she would find happiness here, because judging by these last few days, he was not sure how much time they would be able to spend in each others company. Far too little for his liking. It just wasn't fair that duty would already keep him from her arms, so soon after their marriage. He had hoped for some happy years with each other, some time to build a proper family, before the duties of his birthright would force him from her side. But fate is a cruel mistress as it seems.

"Take a rest," Arthur insisted once more.

But Rhaegar merely shook his head. "I cannot. And I will not. Duty calls, "Arthur looked unconvinced. Rhaegar, however, left no more room for arguments. The prince stood up and left, to resume his duties for the sake of the realm. And Arthur would be with him, protecting him every step of his way.

* * *

Senna felt giddy, as she slowly descended the countless steps to the lower part of the keep. Only accompanied by Ashara, Prince Lewyn, and Thoros, she was on her way to see the little wonder that had been created by the raging flames.

A dragon. A true, fire spitting, wing flapping dragon. She had not seen it yet, as she had been too late at the scene of the fire. Rhaegar had tasked some of his men to bring the dragon to one of the deepest dungeons and guard it there.

At first, she had been angry with him and would have told him in unmistakable words what she thought about this treatment of the little wonder. But after some consideration of the circumstances, she could understand his reasons. The throne room had just burned and almost all within had burned with it. News of a dragon would have been the last thing needed after this tragedy. There was still much fear of the mythical beasts and some of the more rebellious houses might have taken this as the excuse they had been waiting for to attack.

Though this all would not deter her from seeing the dragon. Her curiosity was just too much to ignore this chance. And she was reasonable enough, taking only those people she could trust with her. Thoros had sworn an oath to serve her. An oath with the Red God as his witness. Breaking that would mean his death since all servants of his god would be forced to kill him on sight. Prince Lewyn, on the other hand, was a sworn in knight of the Kingsguard, bound by his duty to his king. The only one she knew only little about was Ashara. But the quirky girl was a joy to have around and Senna just hoped that the girl would be as honorable as her brother. It was a risk, no doubt, but one she was willing to take. For Ser Arthur's sake and for her own.

"So… this dragon hatched from one of your eggs, right?" Ashara asked carefully, as they reached the ground level. "So does that mean that it will be your dragon now?"

Senna laughed lightly and shook her head, "No, Ashara. These eggs had been in my family's possession since the day they had left old Valyria to settle in Myr. I was honestly surprised that there even was a chance to hatch one of these."

"Never underestimate the might of the fire," Thoros said, "The Lord of Light sometimes works in mysterious ways, but this is hardly the most surprising of his deeds."

"This has nothing to do with gods, Thoros. Neither the Seven or the Lord of Light. It is a work of a higher power my ancestors had somehow mastered. And I'll be damned if I don't try to find out how they did it," Senna declared. She was sure that her ancestors had cast some sort of spell on the eggs. How else were they supposed to survive several centuries in the caves beneath House Peverell's estates in Myr?

She would have to pay her family's library a visit soon, to search for the answer… maybe Rhaegar would like to come with her… though his duties would make that impossible for now… She resolved that she would bring him a nice book or some interesting scrolls to read in his free time. He would surely enjoy the wisdom of her Valyrian ancestors.

"Magic or not, all the Red God's work," Thoros replied with a smirk.

"You said you are not good at being a priest. Yet you preach pretty much all the time," Senna remarked dryly, as she shot the priest a look that clearly conveyed her thoughts. She was not buying his fairy tales about the great god that speaks to his followers through the fire. Her parents were foolish enough to follow this belief. Senna, however, was not so gullible.

"I am a bad priest. I drink, I whore, and I can't remember the last time I have managed to convert anyone," Thoros replied with a chuckle. "But my faith is unwavering."

Senna did not comment on that, instead, she increased her pace. She just wanted to see the dragon. And they quickly arrived at the large underground hall, where the guards were keeping the small breast.

Four heavily armed men were guarding the door, grim looks on their faces as they saw their guests. But they dared not deny her, not their princess. So they pushed the large doors open and allowed her entrance to the dragon's den… which was little more than a dark, dank and utterly depressing hole in the rock that the Red Keep had been built upon. All around the circular room were torches, their feeble light barely enough to lighten up the room.

"So, where is it?" Senna wondered. "Stay back here, I will try to find it on my own first," she told her companions. Thoros and Prince Lewyn complied readily, but Ashara was obviously too intrigued to stand still for long. It actually reminded Senna of her previous life and the time when she had explored Hogwarts with her friends… fond memories of another life.

She wandered around in the room, looking for the dragon. But it was harder than expected to find it in the dark room. Only when she heard a feeble growling from one of the darkest spots in the room, she finally found the little beast. But what she saw caused her both grief and anger.

The dragon was almost tiny, no bigger than a kitten, with scales of the color of emeralds. Of course, she had been aware that the dragon was less than two days old, but she was shocked how small and fragile it really was. But what truly made her mad with anger, was the fact that they had chained the little creature to the wall. Like a dog on a leash, it could barely do more than hop around a little. Barely enough for a newborn creature with the urge to spread its wings and learn to fly.

"Hey there little one," she cooed, as she slowly approached the dragon. "I'm Senna. I will be your best friend from now on. All you need to do is trust me and I will release you from these cruel bonds."

She reached out with her hand, to let the little dragon smell at her fingers. She wasn't sure how else she could hope to gain the trust of this creature. The dragon, however, was obviously in a foul mood. Not that she could blame it. It hissed and tried to bite her at first, though it quickly stopped when it realized that she was not intimidated in the slightest.

"All will be well," she assured the dragon. She wasn't even sure if the little beast understood what she was saying. She tried regardless.

The dragon watched her hand with suspicion, as her fingers reached for the leather collar, that the guards had forced around its neck. She quickly undid the clasp and released the little one, much to its obvious joy. It immediately spread its wings and tried to fly, with little success. But its mood had brightened considerably.

On one attempt it managed to lift off from the ground, but it took too much strength to remain in the air. It got barely higher than Senna's shoulders before its wings lost all strength and it fell back to the ground. Senna managed to catch it before it would have hurt itself and gently cradled it in her hands.

"Rest, little one, you will have many days of flying ahead of you. The endless sky will be your playground."

The dragon croaked at her as if it had understood her every word before it tried to climb up her arm. It's sharp claws, even as small as they were now, left tears in her dress and small cuts along her skin. She hissed slightly in pain but did not stop the dragon. She had a feeling that rejecting it now, because of some shallows cuts would be wrong. She wanted the dragon to trust her, so it would obey her in the future. These early months of the dragon's life would be formative.

"Are you alright, princess?" Prince Leywn called for her. The man had obviously heard her pained sounds and grew worried.

"I'm alright. The little one is a bit rough," Senna replied.

Meanwhile, the dragon had reached her shoulder and settled there for a nap as it seems. It steadied itself with its tale, which coiled slightly around Senna's neck. It seemed that the little dragon felt quite comfortable on its new perch, so she left it there, as she slowly walked back towards Ashara and her guards.

Prince Lewyn was immediately alerted when he saw her torn and bloody dress… and his hand reached for the hilt of his sword, as he saw the dragon on her shoulder.

"Rest easy, Prince Lewyn. The cuts are all shallow and will heal quickly, but I won't allow for my dragon to be brutalized by these men any longer," Senna declared strongly. She would certainly have a word with Rhaegar about how his men had treated the little dragon. It is a miracle, not some ghastly monster that should be put down at all cost.

Ashara watched the dragon with unabashed curiosity, though there was also some apprehension in her eyes. "So this is a dragon? It is so tiny."

"Well babies usually are tiny," Senna replied with an amused smile.

She wonders how Fawkes would react to seeing the dragon on her shoulder. It was usually his place to sit and she had seen how jealous he could be at times. He would never let any cats or other pets near her. But a dragon was hardly a pet…

"Princess, should you really allow this beast to be this close to you?" Prince Lewyn asked as he watched the dragon with distrust.

She could understand why he was so apprehensive. Though there had been no dragons in over a hundred years, but the stories about their terrible power are still very much present in the minds of all the people. Especially the stories of Balerion killing thousands of men in a heartbeat and the destruction of Harrenhal are testaments to the destructive power of these animals.

But her little dragon was just a babe. Nothing more. But given the chance, it would grow up to become a majestic beast. And she had every intention to allow this dragon a long life.

"May I… may I touch it?" Ashara asked slight hesitation in her speech and movement. But when Senna nodded, the girl slowly reached for the dragon, who watched her fingers with great suspicion, just as it had done with Senna before. Only when Ashara had nearly reached the shiny scales, the dragon hissed loudly to scare her away. With success. Ashara pulled her hand back, so fast as if she had been whipped.

"A little picky, aren't we?" Senna asked the dragon, who only made a huffing sound before it nestled against her neck again. "I am sorry, Ashara, but our newest resident in the Red Keep does not like to be pet like a cat as it seems."

Ashara smiled, obviously not overly shocked by this, "It is alright, your grace. It was foolish of me to think of it as a pet."

"You are right. He… or she is not a pet," Senna frowned, as she realized something, "Gods, I have no idea whether this little dragon is a boy or a girl. How do you even determine that? Guess I will have to raid the library again."

She sighed. She wasn't really in the mood for days and days only surrounded by books. Even in her third life she had never been a bookish person. She enjoyed learning new things, but doing nothing but reading, bored her quickly. But it always brought back memories of friends, lost in the turmoil of time and different worlds…

"So what will you name it?" Thoros asked.

"That will have to wait until I know what it is," Senna replied. "And Rhaegar will likely want to have a say in this as well."

She sighed again. She wondered where her husband was at the moment. They were in the same building, yet they would likely not meet until late at night when both of them would return to the bed they share. She really hoped that this would get better once the chaos is over… it would be terrible to know that their duties would keep them away from each other, especially once they have children.

"Are you feeling alright, milady?" Thoros asked as he saw the strange look on her face. "You look unwell. Maybe we should head back outside, so you can get some fresh air."

"It is alright, Thoros. I am not sick or anything and I would like to stay with my dragon for a little bit longer before duty calls me away," Senna replied, as she forced a happy smile on her lips.

Both of her guards seemed content with this, but Ashara looked at her oddly, "Are you with child, princess?" the girl asked bluntly.

Senna laughed lightly as she heard Ashara's question. She wasn't bothered by this, she rather enjoyed that the girl would speak her mind and she had no intention to stop her from doing that, "No, Ashara. Rhaegar and I have been married for less than a fortnight. There is no chance that I am with child. Not yet, but sooner or later it will happen."

"And all the realm will celebrate the day the heir to realm gets born," Prince Lewyn told her, with obvious pride.

She had known before, that it was the burden of a queen to provide an heir. Several, preferably. Until she would give birth to a son, the people would not be satisfied with her. And should they fail to produce children at all, the entire blame would be hers. And she really wants children. She was still very young at the moment, but in this world girls even younger than her would become mothers… and she was already responsible for the end of one noble family... If all things failed, she would still have some potions that might help, but she really didn't want to imagine all of this yet.

* * *

"You grace! A moment of your time!"

Rhaegar sighed. It wasn't even possible for him to take a walk without anyone bothering him. And in this case, he couldn't afford to ignore this man. Tywin Lannister was no man who would take kindly to being ignored. Not even by the crown prince.

"Yes, Lord Tywin? Is there something that needs my immediate attention?" Rhaegar asked cordially.

The powerful lord walked beside the prince, as he said, "I am well aware of the dire situation we are in at the moment, but the realm can ill afford even a moment of inattention from its rulers."

"I am well aware of that, Lord Tywin, and I'm doing my utmost to minimize the consequences of this terrible tragedy," Rhaegar replied.

Tragedy… it was almost as if it was haunting him. First Summerhall, when he was born, now the Red Keep, little more than a week after his marriage. More than once he had thanked the Seven for his father's decision to celebrate the marriage with such an ostentatious tourney, otherwise, his mother, brother, and Senna might have been among the casualties. But all of them had come to watch him joust and all of them had not been harmed. But the curse of Summerhall still had him in a tight grip as it seemed.

There was a shrewd look on Lord Tywin's face, as he heard Rhaegar's reply and he quickly pressed on, to get to his point, "Then you agree with me that it is of utmost importance that you name a new Small Council, so we can resume our work as quickly as possible."

"Of course. But I have come to the decision to replace some of the members. My father's decisions were not always… coherent," Rhaegar sighed, "I am sure you will agree with me on this."

"As you say, your grace," Tywin replied diplomatic as possible.

"As my Hand, you will, of course, see to it that all necessary steps are taken," Rhaegar told the man. And judging by the way Tywin carried himself, it was obvious that the man was pleased with his position. Rhaegar agreed with Senna, Tywin Lannister was the only logical choice in this regard. Dangerous as he was, keeping him close and content was better than having him scheming at Casterly Rock. "But I need to replace the Master of coin, ships, and laws."

"I have some suggestions for these positions," Tywin told the prince. But Rhaegar raised his hand to silence him.

"No need. I have already chosen some candidates," Rhaegar told him, "Surely you will see the wisdom in my decisions."

"Of course, your grace," Tywin replied curtly. "May I ask who you wish to appoint."

"I am sure you are aware of the ambitions of the Reach lords. To pacify them I will appoint Lord Mace Tyrell as my Master of ships. Surely the position will suit a man of his… many talents." Rhaegar tried to phrase it as positive as possible, but his opinion of Mace Tyrell was rather negative. The man was dull and utterly useless, but at least as Master of ships, he could do less harm than in any other position.

"And the others?"

"Lord Steffon shall serve as my Master of coin. During his time in the Free Cities, he has managed to open up several profitable new trade routes for us and I wish for him to continue with this. All Seven Kingdoms will benefit from more trade with the east."

Tywin nodded approvingly. Not much of a surprise, seeing as the Lord of Storm's End and the Lord of Casterly Rock were still somewhat good friends. They would work well together, or at least Rhaegar hoped they would.

"And I wish to appoint Lord Arryn as my Master of laws. He is well respected and knowledgeable. It would be foolish to ignore him any longer," Rhaegar explained. But he had not chosen Arryn because of this. He had only chosen lords paramount, three of them wardens. It would allow him much better chances to see their true colors.

And apparently Tywin had come to the same conclusion. Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer. Right now he couldn't be sure about who would be friend and foe. His father had burned too many bridges in the last few years. But his wife had the talent to befriend even the unlikeliest men. Robert Baratheon was the best example for that. With her at his side, he might even turn the most powerful lords in the realm into trusted allies… or at least begrudging allies. He wouldn't be too picky here.

"Then shall I inform these lords of their appointment?"

"Please do so. I would like for the council to meet for the first time on the eve before the coronation," Rhaegar said.

"Of course, your grace. I shall get to it immediately..."

"One more thing, Lord Tywin," Rhaegar interrupted the man once more. "There is one thing I want from you, in return for your appointment as Hand of the King. Other than you loyalty, of course."

A sour look appeared on the lord's face, but he remained cordial, none the less. "And what would that be, your grace?"

"Your son," Rhaegar said. "If one of his children shall marry into the royal family, I wish to know the man better. Therefore, I want your son to squire for Ser Arthur Dayne from now on, until the day he proves worthy of knighthood."

He already knew that Senna would be furious. She had demanded to be present for this negotiation… only there wasn't much negotiating happening. Still, this was not what he had agreed on with her. Hopefully, she would understand. But he had to use this chance. There was no telling when he would ever have any form of leverage on this lord again.

"My son is already squiring for Lord Crakehall," Tywin replied calmly, "But I am sure we can arrange for this, your grace." It was obvious that this displeased the man greatly. He had sent his son to squire for one of his bannermen, so he would have better control over this. But Jaime under the influence of the Kingsguard… there was no telling how this would end.

* * *

She wasn't sure how she had ended up here. It was dark, so very dark. No sun, no torches, no light at all. She was alone, her footsteps on the hard floor the only sound in the room. But every step resounded from the walls, somewhere far away in the dark distance.

She began to ran, desperate to get somewhere… anywhere. Just away from the black nothingness. But there was no place to reach, no exit to find. She was trapped in this perpetual darkness.

She had survived in Tartarus. She had survived the horrors Titans, gods, and dark wizards had hurled at her. Steadfast. Dauntless. Ever vigilant. But now, she felt afraid. But why?

She stopped dead, to catch her breath. "Just what is this place," she muttered.

A gust of warm wind passed her, but it disappeared just as fast as it had come. But she had no time to wonder about this, as suddenly torches lit up around her. One after another, to her left and to her right, creating a corridor of light in the eerie darkness. And at its end, she saw the monstrosity that so many people were willing to fight and die for… the Iron Throne… And it looked just like the way she had last seen it. Blackened by the burst of wildfire… and with the impaled corpse of Aerys Targaryen, several swords still thrust through his chest…

Despite the growing feeling of dread, she approached the throne. She had not dared look at it when the servants of the keep had managed to put out the fire. The gruesome scene… the burned remains of several dozen men, among them the honorable Lord Commander of the Kingsguard… she felt guilty for their deaths, but they were a necessary sacrifice, to rid the world of the blight that was Aerys Targaryen.

Now she forced herself to look at his corpse more closely. His clothes and hair had been burned away, his skin was singed, colored red and black by fire and soot. But even in death, his face was a repulsive grimace of mad laughter.

"We all suffer the fate we deserve," she said, as she took a step back from his corpse. "You will never hurt your family… my family, ever again."

It was somewhat satisfying to see him now. Though she still wondered where she really was and how she had ended up here, it allowed her to accept her deeds.

She froze in fear, however, when she heard a mad cackling. Aerys' cackling. Her eyes widened when she saw the corpse move.

"This is impossible. You are dead!"

But how was this dead man supposed to move? The corpse was moving, slowly pushing itself up, to escape the swords that had pierced its chest. Once free, it collapsed in a seemingly boneless heap of flesh and skin, only to return to the form of the burnt and mangled corpse of Aerys Targaryen.

"Did you enjoy it?" the corpse spoke with Aerys' voice, but Senna wouldn't believe that this was truly the mad king. That man was dead.

"Who are you? Some dark specter here to mess with my mind?"

Again the corpse cackled before it rushed towards here with inhuman speed. Before she could react, cold dead hands hand her throat in a tight grip, ready to strangle all life out of her.

"You called me a monster in life. They all did. They called me mad, a raving lunatic. Now see what you have done to me!"

"I did what I had to!" her voice was barely above a whisper, as she lacked the air to speak properly.

The grip around her throat tightened again and her vision began to blur, as she stared into the eyes of the corpse before her. Those were not Aerys' eyes… they dead, cold… a glowing blue that seemed so unnatural, that it could only be the result of magic.

"All for the greater good, isn't that right, my dear girl?" the corpse sneered mockingly. "Such hypocrisy. You only felt revulsion for the old fool, when you found out about his schemes. Now you are the puppeteer and the whole world is your puppet."

"I… will… not be…" she tried to collect what strength she had left in her body, in a last, desperate attempt to use her magic to break free. But it was too little, and she tried too late.

But as she had nearly abandoned hope to escape the wrath of this walking corpse, two loud cries echoed through the room. And suddenly the corpse was bathed in flames. Her enemy released her from his death grip and stumbled back, crying out in agony.

She coughed, as her lungs filled with the much-needed air once more. But she could also see who had saved her now. To her right was Fawkes, burning as brightly as the sun itself. And to her left was her dragon… but not the little babe from the dungeons, but rather a fully grown beast, big enough to carry a rider into battle.

"I will not be undone so easily!" the corpse yelled in utter rage. "I will return and I will drag you into the darkest pits of despair for your treachery! I will have your soul, traitor!" And despite the fiery hell, her two companions had bathed him in, the corpse shot forward once more, to end what he had started…

Her eyes shot open and she quickly sat up. Her breath was ragged and she was bathed in sweat, as she desperately tried to regain her bearings. She took several deep breaths to calm her raging heart, but only to little avail.

' _A dream… a nightmare,'_ she thought.

And her sudden movement had also awoken her husband. Rhaegar looked at her in concern, as he saw the state she was in at the moment.

"Senna! Are you alright? Do you need the Maester or any help?"

"Just a nightmare..." she said. "Just a horrible nightmare."

He pulled her against his chest and embraced her tightly, in an attempt to calm her down, "I know these last days had been troublesome, with the tragedy and all..."

"I am… I feel… guilty..." she confessed. Rhaegar said nothing at first, only his grip around her tightened, as he held her almost possessively. "Would you… would you hate me, if I had been the one to kill your father?"

"Did you do it?" he replied simply.

She hesitated to answer. Somehow she feared how he might react. She knew that he was in no way close to Aerys, but despite all, the man had been his father… and she, his wife, was the one who had killed the king.

"I… I have cast the ritual, which had caused the explosion. It was supposed to aid the dragon's hatching, but..."

"Did you know that it would kill my father?"

"I… I had hoped it would," she answered truthfully. "And it did."

Rhaegar's embrace around her loosened and she already feared that he would demand her to leave his quarters and return to her own. But instead, he pressed a kiss to her neck.

"This should not have been your burden to bear," he said. "I am sorry that I was so weak and slow, that you had to do what I had should have done months ago."

"But..."

"No more. I have hesitated and allowed this man to murder innocents and brutalize my mother. His death is a mercy, not for him, but for all others," he said soothingly.

And it worked. Senna released a deep sigh and allowed all tenseness to leave her body. "Still… I am sorry for the way I have handled this. But after I had seen the extent of your mother's wounds and when he threatened me… us, again, I couldn't let him live any longer."

"No more about this man. He will never hurt anyone again and we won't allow his shadow to ruin our lives any further. Sleep now. I am here and I won't let you go." Rhaegar said.

Senna turned around in his embrace, so she would face him, and pulled him into a deep kiss. She was glad that she had managed to find one of those rare good men and for the first time, she did not abhor a prophecy that dictates her life. At least, this time, she was allowed some happiness.

* * *

She watched almost absent-mindlessly, as the High Septon droned on in front of the large crowd in the Great Sept. For the third time in only a few short weeks, the Sept was the center of large events. First the marriage of the crown prince, for which they had come to the capital in the first place. Then only the day before they had attended the funeral of King Aerys Targaryen, a supposedly sad ceremony with attendants who had been anything but sad to know he's dead. And now they had to attend the coronation of their new king.

"Who would have thought that there are people who live even more ostentatious than we do," she muttered.

Her sister, who stood to her right, giggled lightly. Her brother, though, who stood to her right, looked at her darkly. He must have believed that she would be chastised by his look, but she only feared one person's displeasure. Her own mother's wrath.

The High Septon had finished invoking each of the Seven, when he announced loudly, "In the light of the Seven I now proclaim Rhaegar of the House Targaryen, First of his name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm." He slowly placed the crown on the new king's silver blond hair, before he proclaimed loudly, "Long may he reign!" Which all people in the Sept repeated, some with more, some with less vigor.

But the ceremony was far from over and the lords and ladies watched with baited breath, as a second crown was brought forth by a servant and the king took it. There was no hesitation, no doubt on his face, as he turned towards the woman at his side. His wife. The fabled Jewel of Myr, Senna Peverell. And he crowned her here, in front of all the powerful lords of the realm.

"Crowned by her own husband, standing at his side as his equal," her mother muttered, "It may be his most dangerous and also his most fortunate gamble."

"She is powerful, no doubt," she replied.

"Yes, Mina. She is quite powerful. It will be your task to win this woman's trust. Make her rely on you and our House will prosper. Allow others to steal away her attention, and we will wither away. I have no doubt that she will be the key to our success," her mother advised sagely. "Don't allow those women from Dorne to steal your rightful place at the queen's side."

"I won't, mother," Mina replied. She was well aware of her task. But it was so very difficult. She hadn't been the queen's choice, she was only one of her ladies because of politics. It made her position so much more difficult. Much to her ire, the Dayne girl was already close to the queen and the Martell princess would likely follow soon. But she wouldn't loose.

"What a wonderful day for all of us," she heard her brother boast loudly.

Mace was brimming with misplaced pride and Mina wondered what exactly made him feel like this. Maybe it was all just for show. The new king and queen were close enough to hear him and maybe this was his feeble attempt to get into their good graces. The sodding fool.

But as she watched the newly crowned king and queen, she could understand his wish to win their favor. They looked majestic, as they slowly walked out of the Sept to present themselves to their people. It had been the queen's choice that they would do that. To allow the common people to feel closer to their new rulers. And all would love them, Mina was sure of that. Now it was her task to ensure that her family would gain as much as possible from this as well.


	10. Winter is coming

"It's getting colder," Senna said, as she walked through the streets of King's Landing. Once more disguised as Dorea and with a dark cloak and hood to hide her identity, she slowly ambled through the busy streets of the capital, unrecognized by the people around her.

Robert was with her, as usual on such outings. It has become a common occurrence for them, especially after the coronation three months prior. It allowed them to escape the oppressive duties of the keep and Senna could do something that Rhaegar could not. She could hear and see what the people thought of their royal family. As Dorea, she was one of them and with Robert, who was often drinking in the various taverns around the city, she was always at the center of the action.

"Winter is truly coming now, right, Ned?" Robert asked his friend, who ambled some steps behind them.

The young Stark grunted lightly, as he nodded. Senna knew that Ned was worried about his home. The winter was always much harsher in the North and his family had to face the hardships without him.

"Don't be such a bore, Ned. Your brother can handle himself. And this isn't the first winter your father has seen," Robert told him strongly.

"At least your sister is still around," Senna offered to cheer him up, though it wasn't exactly a cause for any jubilant thoughts on her part.

Lyanna Stark, against her express wishes, as the entire Red Keep had the misfortune to hear, had been ordered by her father to stay in the south. Her father left her in the care of Lady Cassana, Robert's mother. Robert was thrilled, of course. Lyanna… not in the slightest. And due to Lord Steffon's role in the Small Council, Lady Cassana and her new ward also stayed in the capital, in a large estate Lord Steffon had bought for his family in the wealthier part of the city.

"Lyanna has already tried to run away several times," Ned lamented, "She just isn't happy as a lady. She want's to ride and hunt, but Lady Cassana tries to educate her in more womanly pursuits."

"I pity her..." Senna said with a sigh.

Robert only chuckled. "Don't mind Lyanna. She will calm down eventually."

"I meant your mother," Senna told him, "And didn't I tell you to stop trying to change the girl to meet your expectations? This way you won't win her over."

"Well… Brandon won't be happy either way," Ned said. "He didn't want to leave her here, but it's not like he got a choice in this. Father is worried about this winter and he wrote that the further Lyanna and I are away from the North the better."

"Well, it is damn cold here as well," Senna replied.

"What crude language for a woman of your standing," Robert chuckled. "Your mother would be appalled."

"Rhaella heard me cuss before. She doesn't like it, but as long as I keep it behind closed doors she will not berate me about it," Senna smirked at Robert, as she fondly thought about her family.

Ever since Aerys'… tragic passing, life in the Red Keep had become rather pleasant. The queen mother had become a much happier person and a valuable adviser for her son. And especially Viserys had thrived under the unwavering care of his mother and sister. Even the queen mother's special circumstances were a reason for happiness. For all the violence Aerys had inflicted upon her, he had left her with one more gift. A child that would never know the fear of its father. Now all that remained was the queen's own fear of yet another miscarriage…

"Come, just a few more streets," Robert said suddenly. "I've found this great tavern just a fortnight ago."

Senna sighed, "Tavern or whorehouse?"

"Does it matter? Wine, women and song," Robert grinned at her.

"So much for winning over your lady," Senna muttered, "Is it too hard not to whore around? Damn it, Robert. Your betrothed is in this very city and you still sleep around. Gods know what diseases you already carry."

"Very funny," Robert replied with a humorless laugh, "But I have urges and as long as I am faithful once we are married, Lyanna shouldn't be too bothered about this."

"Any woman would be happy to marry a man with an army of bastards," Senna drawled sarcastically. "Ned, you help me here. It's your sister this oaf is going to marry."

The young Stark looked unsure for a moment, before he joined Senna's side, "Well she did complain about your faithfulness, Robert."

"You mean the lack thereof," Senna clarified.

Robert did not answer, instead,he growled darkly and quickened his pace. Senna and Ned had to hurry, to keep up with him. But even as they had caught up, Robert refused to talk to them. Of course, they knew one or two drinks would loosen his tongue later, for now, however, his silent anger was slightly unsettling. Not that Robert would ever do anything against them. He would rant, he would rage, but once he runs out of steam, he would come back and act as if nothing had ever happened.

"Wait," Ned said suddenly. "Oh no. We shouldn't be here."

"What now, Ned?" Robert grumbled.

Senna's eyes widened as she saw what Ned had seen. And it worried her just as much as him. The streets before them were full of corpses, barely covered by thin linen cloths. Stacked up left and right on the street. And even those people, who were still moving, were obviously more dead than alive.

"This is a street of death," Robert muttered, "The diseases ravage the people in Flea Bottom once more. We should head back… lest we might catch something."

That even Robert was so quick to abandon his night of debauchery, was enough reason for Senna to worry. But this was also one of the things that most people at the Red Keep refused to see. Death. Ever present in the heart of the Seven Kingdoms. The nobles were all too happy to forget how the smallfolk suffers… especially in the long winter nights.

* * *

"You have called for me, father?" Brandon Stark said as he had reached his father's solar.

Lord Rickard looked stressed, his face slightly haggard and marred by deep lines that were not all the consequence of age. Maester Walys stood next to him, as usual, with a chunk of letters in his hand.

"Tell me, Brandon, how was your visit to the capital? Answer me truly," Rickard asked his son.

Brandon was confused at first. He had been back for months now and he and his father had talked at great length about what had happened in King's Landing. Especially the new queen was of great interest to the lord of Winterfell. But why was his father talking about this now?

"It was… interesting," he replied with a frown, "But why are we talking about this again? Do you want me to return there? Or will you send Benjen away as well?"

He was still angry about his father's decisions. He could at least understand why Ned was forced to stay in that dratted city, but when his father had decreed that Lyanna would not return home, both Stark brothers had been surprised.

"We may have need of our southern allies soon. The winter has us in its cold grasp and in every direction we have an enemy waiting to strike," Rickard said darkly.

Brandon did not reply immediately, instead, he walked forward and picked up a letter from the large table in front of his father. His expression was stony, as he read it.

"So Bolton is still a bastard. How very… unsurprising," he spat.

"The Boltons are crafty and ambitious. Not that I would have expected any less from the leeches," Rickard said, "Not a moon passes without another letter from them, urging me to reconsider my decision regarding your sister. They want Roose Bolton to marry Lyanna. As if I would throw my daughter to the dirt."

"And in your great wisdom, you will surely not pass up this chance to end a feud even older than the realm we all serve now," Brandon quoted from the letter, "Isn't Roose Bolton married to that girl… what's her name, I forgot."

"It does not matter. His first wife died half a year ago. Of the pox, or so they claim." Rickard shook his head, as he watched Brandon crumble the letter before he threw it into one of the nearby braziers. "And to make things worse, the Boltons are not our only problem."

"Raiders? Again?" Brandon asked.

"They are getting more troublesome recently. But of course, the Greyjoys know nothing about this. Sugar coated words inform us of their friendship," Rickard spat. "But what worries me more, is the danger in our north. The Wall is in a sorry condition and the Wildlings get bolder with every day."

"Give me a week and I will take a thousand men north of the Wall. We will show those wildlings that they should crawl back into whatever hole they have spawned from." Brandon exclaimed hotly.

But his father would have none of it, "That is not the point, Brandon. There is too much wall and too little Nightswatch to protect it. I need the south to send us more men for the Wall. Only then we can focus our own men on the other problems in our lands."

"The new king seems more reasonable than his father. He might see the dire situation we are in," Brandon mused, "Or maybe we should approach the queen for this. Her influence is great and they say that she always has an open ear for the troubled people in her realm."

"Either way, we need them. You have met them, so you will work with Maester Walys to write that letter," Rickard ordered. "And hurry. I only have so many murderers, rapists, and thieves to send to the Wall. And should I start to send liars and cheats, I would run out of bannermen soon."

Brandon chuckled as he heard this. But he also realized how grave the situation was. The winter had just started and the chaos would only increase when the supplies they had stockpiled for the winter would reach their end. Winter had come, the second in his short life so far, and it would not be easy to deal with.

* * *

Senna coughed lightly, as she rummaged through the countless scrolls and books in her family's secret library. She was still searching for more scrolls about dragons and their training, but so far she had not had much luck.

Raising a dragon had been a strange experience so far, as they mostly learned from mistakes. Well, at least she did. Rhaegar was far too busy to spend more than some fleeting moments in the presence of the little beast. Feeding it was easy enough, a few big chunks of raw meat and the dragon would be happy and content. But she had no idea how she was supposed to be able to keep the dragon from hunting by himself, once he was allowed outside.

The lack of progress on this matter was frustrating and soon enough she threw one of the dusty old tomes into a far away corner. She had read just about a hundred different stories about dragons fighting and the heroic deeds of their riders, but not even a single sentence about what she needed to know. Her own ancestors were far too much in love with their own glorious deeds, but they cared little about the work necessary to get there.

She was aware that Rhaegar had given orders to his Grand Maester to search the archives of the citadel for anything useful, but just like her, the man had little to no success. But in this case, Senna did not mind that at all. She wasn't comfortable with the idea that a sketchy group like those Maesters would have vital knowledge about dragons. She even refused to let Pycelle anywhere near her dragon, a decision Rhaegar had begrudgingly accepted after some arguing. The old man was, of course, upset, but Senna's decision was set in stone.

"This is hopeless," she yawned, "I should better head back before anyone notices my disappearance." She stretched and yawned again. Loudly. Her mother would have likely upbraided her for such behavior, but here in the vaults she was alone and no one else could come here.

If there was one thing she hated about being queen, it was the attention she got now. Everyone seemed to keep an eye on here… though most of them looked at her belly more than the rest. Even with the queen mother pregnant, the people placed great importance on her getting pregnant as soon as possible as well. But all this attention and the near constant presence of her ladies also lead to the problem that her escapes had become far fewer in number. Had it not been for Elia's unwitting help, she wouldn't have gotten the chance to leave at all, to come here and do some research.

She would have to thank the Dornish princess in some way. Had she not taken Ashara and Mina with her to the markets, they would still cling to her. But the moment for her return had come… and judging by how dirty she looked, the moment for a bath had come as well… oh, how she hates dust and grime…

She looked around one more time, her eyes lingering on the many artifacts her family had accumulated over the years. There was still so much of everything. Gold, jewels, weapons and other artifacts. She would have to find a use for most of this. One day they might need it all. She sighed one last time before she quickly apparated back to her room in the Red Keep.

Only her own servants were in the large bedchamber, as Senna arrived. But neither of them was bothered by her sudden appearance. Nearly all of those who had served her in Myr knew that she was not just some ditzy noble born daughter but in fact the last witch of Valyrian descent. And all of her servants were far too loyal to reveal this secret.

"Your grace," Lana greeted her with a bow, "We've taken the liberty to prepare a bath for you. You always liked to bathe when you returned from the vaults, so we presumed..."

"It is alright, Lanna," Senna told her with a smile, "I am very grateful. Thank you."

Her handmaiden smiled brightly, before she quickly joined her partner, to finish the preparations. They had obviously ordered the servants in the keep to bring a large tub and place it in the corner of the room. It stood near the windows from where Senna would be able to see the last rays of light before the sun would set. Just like her bath at home in Myr. She had been tempted to bathe there, now she was glad that she hadn't. She did not want to put her handmaidens' work to waste.

And Senna, more than happy about the bliss of a scalding hot bath, quickly disrobed and stepped into the wooden tub. She sighed in contentment, as she felt her muscles relax. Any troubled thoughts she might have had were washed away for a moment.

"I will fetch some more hot water, your grace," Lanna excused herself before she quickly left the room. Her other handmaiden, Alia, remained behind, to wash her queen's back.

But they did not remain alone for long. Soon the door opened again, but not for Lanna. Alia was quick to protect her queen's modesty by shielding her from sight with a large cloth. Not that her efforts were needed.

It was Rhaegar who entered, much sooner than they would have expected. Not that Senna minded. His duties as king kept him away from her for far too long.

"Rhaegar? What are you doing here?" Senna asked in surprise, as she looked her husband.

"Am I not allowed in my own rooms now," he asked, quite amused. "And it is such a wonderful sight that greets me here. Makes it hard to stay away for long."

Senna chuckled, as she splashed some water in his direction. Both of them laughed, as Alia, ever thoughtful, wordlessly retreated to the other corner of the room, where she would remain until her queen had need of her. Rhaegar meanwhile approached her further and knelt down next to her tub, his fingers slowly caressing her arm, which rested on the side.

"So... a bath, at this time of the day?" Rhaegar said, "How… decadent."

"You wouldn't talk like that if you were in the water with me. But sadly these tubs barely fit one grown person. Add another and we will only flood the room," Senna replied, as she looked at her husband through a veil of wet, silvery blond tresses. "In my estate in Myr, I have a bath truly fit for royalty, with space for several people to enjoy the simple luxury of warm water together."

"And who was given the privilege to bathe with you?" he asked. He tried to hide it, but Senna saw the flash of envy in his eyes. It was ridiculous, though she also found it slightly adorable…

But she also smiled happily, as wonderful memories filled her mind, "My mother when I was still little. My mentor later. Lady Melisandre was always… close to me. She didn't try to usurp my mother's place after her death, but we were close. But now I would only share my bath with you, husband."

Rhaegar idly caressed her arm, his fingers slowly wandering upwards until they had reached her shoulder and wandered back down to the swell of her breasts. "So you still want to build your baths in our city?" He sounded amused, "The people will hardly know what to do with it… but seeing you like this, I wouldn't mind building a bath in the keep."

"You would do anything to see me undressed," Senna accused him playfully.

"And who could ever blame me," he replied before he tilted her head towards him and kissed her. "I must confess, I had hoped to find you here. The day has been long and arduous and I would much rather end it in your embrace than anywhere else in this world."

"Charmer," Senna said, as she chuckled. "But what did the council want now?"

"The plague in the city," Rhaegar said with a sigh. Senna knew that she had likely killed the mood with her question, but she was rather curious. "The people flee their farms, to escape the winter and with them, they bring diseases and other troubles."

"They are scared and desperate," Senna shot back.

"Yes. They are. But they shouldn't be in the city. Due to them, the people in the poorest part of the city live under even worse conditions and diseases spread quickly. Now Lord Tywin has proposed to either quarantine Flea Bottom or use the city guard to expel the peasants."

"Neither is a good choice," Senna said.

"But we have to choose," Rhaegar replied, a sad look on his face. "The Maesters like to say that each winter is meant to cull the peasants. Only the strong and resilient survive, the old, sick and weak perish. A distasteful idea but the situation in streets and in the small villages proves them right."

"And what did you choose?"

"The disease has already taken them, expelling the people would only allow it spread further. So I will have the men erect barricades to quarantine Flea Bottom. The people there will be given food and all other things they need, but they won't be allowed to leave until we can say for sure that the danger has passed."

"Rhaegar..."

"No, Senna. I will not allow this disease to spread and threaten my family. Not when my own mother is with child and my brother is still so very young. As king and as the head of this family it is my duty to protect them. And to protect you."

"I am hardly in need of protection," she scoffed. It had gotten better in time, but Rhaegar still had his moments, when he sees her more as like a fragile little girl, than the powerful witch that she really is.

"Still. If this continues, I will send you and my mother to Dragonstone until the threat has been dealt with," Rhaegar told her.

"I will not allow you to make such decision for me, Rhaegar," Senna told him strongly, as she shot up from her place in the tub.

Rhaegar did not reply at first, as he was too busy to admire her form. She stood before him, completely nude, water dripping from her every curve. A breathtaking sight, though one that was quickly veiled, when Senna's handmaiden came to dry her mistress off…

"This isn't about control, Senna. But you are in danger as well. What if..."

"What if I am with child as well? Is that it, Rhaegar?" Senna asked him. "Do you want to lock me up until you have an heir? Like you lock up our dragon?"

"That's not it, Senna. But I will not take risks. Please don't argue with me about this. Not this time," Rhaegar almost pleaded with her. "The last great disease has ravaged my family almost a century ago. So many have died, we never fully recovered from it. I will not allow that to happen again."

"Rhaegar..." he was worried about them. She could see it in his eyes. He was worried that he might loose the last people close to him. "I can help better when I'm here. I know remedies, potions, treatments. I have collected countless scrolls about all of this. Maybe we can save the people..."

"Can you provide help for thousands of people. Tens of thousands?" He asked her. Her silence to this was all the answer he needed, "I thought so. It is not mercy when you save a few, only to let them watch all others wither away. Go, Senna. Stay on Dragonstone with my mother and brother. No longer than a year. I swear to you, no longer than a year."

She sighed deeply, as she looked intently at her husband. She was well aware that she could resist his command and he would be unable to force her, but this would put a strain on their growing relationship, that she was not yet willing to risk. But being kept away from danger did not sit well with her. Terrible memories of her past life, when others made decisions for her to keep her safe.

"I will take the dragon with me," she said, after some deliberation. "Dragonstone is the perfect place for it to spread its wings. And in one year I will return. With your blessing or without."

He looked worried about this but relented. He knew that Senna would not allow him a real victory here. "Very well. But promise me that you will be careful. The last thing we should allow now is for the lords to believe that we will bring back the times of fire and blood. We can ill afford a war during a winter."

"I know, Rhaegar. I don't want a war. I want to help and I believe that there is a far greater evil waiting for us in the future," she knew it. So far the prophecy had been true. The Stag, the Dragon, and the Phoenix united… next would be the great darkness…

"Let's not talk about this now. Despite this dreary conversation, I still yearn to hold you close," Rhaegar told her, as he grabbed her waist and pulled her close. "How about we try for a little dragon of our own."

"Lustful man," Senna muttered. But she wasn't against this. Even after such dark and gloomy topics, her relationship with Rhaegar was a way to escape the harsh world for a few hours of blissful exertion. So she kissed him and allowed him to pull her towards their bed… she barely even heard the door close, as her handmaiden left.

* * *

Dragonstone. Cold, dead and inhospitable. The ancestral home of House Targaryen was all that and worse. It had been a rainy night when they had arrived, cold winter rain falling, that hurt on the skin like a thousand little needles.

They way up to the keep seemed endless and arduous, even for those who could enjoy the questionable comfort of a coach. The queen was silent for the whole ride from the ship, with her young son at her side, clutching her hand tightly.

Senna watched in morbid fascination, as they passed the village and approached the dark citadel. Like dragons made of black stone, the towers rose from the equally dark ground. A castle so unique and terrifying, that she could hardly tear her eyes away from it.

"It is as dreadful as I remember it," the queen said mournfully. "Though my last visit was even less pleasant than this one. Not the weather, my dear, but the company."

Senna knew what she had meant. The last time Rhaella had been here, she had been just a princess of the Iron Throne and the newly wed wife of the heir apparent, Prince Aerys Targaryen. From all she had heard so far, there had never been any love in Rhaella's relationship with her brother. Only duty and coercion.

"Your ancestors have built this place to intimidate and now with the weather adding to the illusion, I have to admit that even I feel the dread," Senna replied softly, "What a terrible shame that all knowledge of how it had been built is lost. The Doom of Valyria has robbed us of so many wonders."

"And just as many shadows," Rhaella replied. She smiled kindly at her daughter, as she continued, "the rivalry of our families also died with it, so we shouldn't mourn the old days too much."

Senna looked away, back towards the keep, to avoid Rhaella's eyes. It was apparent that the queen mother did not know the full extent of what the Houses Targaryen and Peverell had done to each other… even after Aegon's conquest. Senna kept the old letters and scrolls hidden. In the deepest cavern of her vaults, never to be read again. Stories of murder, rape and the death of the last dragons. She still shuddered every time she remembered just how depraved her own ancestors had become at the height of the feud. She tries her best to forget and most of the time she even succeeds. But seeing the citadel of Dragonstone now, she couldn't forget the story of Alysanne's torment at the hands of Maegor Targaryen… and the bloody vengeance of her brothers…

"This land is cursed," Rhaella said with a sigh, "Just what was Rhaegar thinking, sending us here of all places?"

"As long as the plague ravages the capital, he wants us all safe," Senna told her. "He pleaded with me to come here, so he could rest easy."

"You don't like it," the queen mother said with a sly smirk. "But I am proud of you, my dear. Your pride is a great thing, but Rhaegar has all right to fear for us. Especially with your regular escapes into the city with Steffon's brash son."

"You knew?" Senna said, her eyes wide in surprise.

The smirk on Rhaella's lips grew. "Now that I am no longer queen, I make it my duty to know even more about all the schemes that our family is involved in. And though I applaud your ability to slip away unseen, your little adventures are foolish. I hope you will abandon such follies once you expect your own first child."

"I wouldn't dare to risk the life of my child," Senna replied quickly.

"Good," Rhaella nodded and smiled benignly. "I really hope that you won't keep me waiting for too long, my dear. My days are long and though I will soon have another child to care for, I would love to have a grandchild as well. Children are my new focus in life, after all."

Senna did not reply to this. She was growing tired of the constant reminder of her duty. At least now she would have a year without anyone complaining about her lack of children. With her and Rhaegar so far away from each other, at least children were the least of her worries, for now at least.

* * *

"Your wife will not be happy about this," Arthur said with a sigh, as he and Rhaegar sat in the king's private chamber, a table with a Cyvasse board between them. "Once she finds out why you sent her to Dragonstone, you will be sorry."

Rhaegar sighed, as he picked up one of the pieces and twirled it between his fingers. "Senna will understand my reason," he said, though it was obvious that he did not really believe it himself. He had promised her that they would be partners in this, yet here he was, without her, facing the first great threat to his rule alone.

He stared at the Cyvasse piece intently. The dragon piece, the strongest in the game. Targaryens are dragons. Some more, some less. Some had believed that they were real dragons, the sorry fools. More than one of his ancestors had lost life due to this misconception. But in the game for the throne, a Targaryen always had to be a dragon. He often marveled how well he could recreate past schemes and political intrigues, just by placing some intricately carved game pieces on a board.

"Well, you have about ten more months to come up with a good excuse, before she returns. She may be nice and pretty, but thinking about her powers… she scares me. And now that she has a real dragon as her pet, you better try to make her really happy," Arthur said before he laughed.

Rhaegar only groaned in reply. Senna was truly a witch. A real Valyrian witch, like those he had heard about in the stories of his youth. She was anything but weak, yet he had sent her away for her own protection. A foolish notion, perhaps, but at least he could focus on the threat this way.

The door of the room opened and Myles, his squire came in. The boy looked pale and skittish, as he approached their table. Even his hands were shaking slightly.

"What has happened to you, boy? The king sent you to see if the torturers got some answers out of that blasted assassin, but you look as if you've seen death itself."

"Could have been just as well the same, Ser," Myles mumbled. "They've beat him half dead, but the man only repeats the same."

"What are you talking about, boy?" Arthur demanded to know, "Make sense, you are talking to your king now."

"Forgive me, your grace. But the prisoner… they cannot break him. The assassin won't tell us who sent him or why they target the queen. He only ever says..."

"Enough," Rhaegar ordered with a weary sigh. "I will go myself and see what this madman has to say."

"Your grace, that is not a wise idea," Arthur cautioned his friend, but Rhaegar would hear nothing of it.

"You may stay here, Arthur," the king said before he left the room.

The knight was hard pressed to keep up with his king, as Rhaegar quickened his pace several times. He just wanted to get this all over with, to put an end to the threat to his wife's life, so she could return to his side. And he had to be quick about this business. It had to be dealt with before the lords of the council would hear of this and start digging on their own. The last thing he needed were half a dozen men with enough ambition to try and use this situation to their own advantage.

And soon enough he stood in the deepest part of black cells, where the only light was shed by some torches. The king stopped in front of the door, that would lead him to the torture chamber, a place that he had abhorred for most of his life so far.

It had been his father's play room. Who knew just how many men and women had found their end here, to sate his father's thirst for violence and blood…

He took one last deep breath before he pushed the door open and entered. The scene that greeted him was long past gruesome. A man, half-flayed by the looks, was strapped to a table in the center of the room, two hooded men standing at his side with knives and hooks.

Only when they saw him enter, the torturers desisted from continuing with their bloody work.

"Your grace," both men let got of their tools and knelt before their king. Knives clattered as they hit the ground… then only the sound a blood, slowly dripping from the edges of the table, could be heard. "We beg your forgiveness, but the prisoner has been… far less cooperative than expected. Not even with our most skillful techniques we were able to loosen his tongue."

"Is he still alive?" Rhaegar asked.

"Yes, your grace. Barely, but still alive," the torturer answered.

Rhaegar walked past the still kneeling men, to get a better view of the man on the table. He had been a servant in the keep. Silent, but well respected. Always dutiful, always loyal. Until the night, another servant found a black dagger among the man's belongings. When the guards confronted him about it, he snapped and attacked them, yelling that the queen had to die...

"Here to finish me off, your grace?" the prisoner spat. When he laughed, he showed his bloody mouth, all of his teeth gone and blood seeped out.

"You won't die… yet," Rhaegar said. "You will stay here, more dead than alive. These good men will beat you to an inch of your life, day after day. And when you break and tell me all I want to know, then I might be merciful and grant you death."

"All life is torment. In death we are blessed, to serve him in undying loyalty till the end of all days," the prisoner spat.

"Who are you working for?" Rhaegar demanded to know.

But again the prisoner only chuckled darkly, "He will come for you, too, king! Without the phoenix, the dragon will perish and this world will return to the darkness, where it belongs."

One of the torturers was quick to grab glowing hot spike from one of the nearby fireplaces and rammed it into the prisoner's side. "Show some respect to your king, you fucking little worm." He barked.

But the prisoner did not show whether this new wound caused him any more pain than he already was in. He continued to chuckle, "Beat me, cut me, crush my bones. The sooner I die the sooner I can return to my master's service for all eternity!"

"A bloody madman, your grace," Arthur said, as he appeared by Rhaegar's side, a hand on the king's shoulder. "There's nothing to gain here."

But Rhaegar was undeterred, "You want to die? Fine by me. But first, you will tell me why you and your master want to kill my wife!"

"Ask her yourself," the prisoner replied simply. One last sigh escaped his bloody mouth before he succumbed to his wounds, a blissful smile on his deformed face.

"No! Damn you, you fucking worm. Can't just die on me like this!" the torturer barked, obviously displeased by this turn of events.

Rhaegar wasn't sure what disgusted him more at that moment. The prisoner's desire for death or the torturer's laments about losing yet another… toy… It was obvious that he was not yet done cleaning up his father's mess. Insipid men, thriving on violence, just like his father. They were still everywhere in the capital. These two torturers in the dungeons were just some of the more… extreme men of his father.

"Well, this was… not very enlightening," Arthur muttered. "Maybe we should return to a place with… more light… and less blood."

Rhaegar nodded. He had only been here for a few short moments and the overwhelming dread of this place was nauseating. It was no surprise that his father, who spent hours watching his enemies getting tortured, had lost his mind.

"Burn the body and dump the ashes into Blackwater Bay," he ordered.

"Yes, your grace. It will happen immediately," one of the torturers replied, as he bowed deeply before his king.

"And no word to anyone about this or you will share his fate," Rhaegar threatened. He knew that in the end he wouldn't have the stomach for such barbarism, but the men obviously believed him bowed even deeper before him.

"Let us return to the throne room, Arthur. I've been absent for long enough," the king told his friend, as he walked out of the chamber.

He would have to return to his duties as king and watch for the many daggers that were meant for him. But after this… it was bloody obvious that Senna was in far greater danger than he was. He just hoped that sending her away wasn't a mistake. This new attempt was far more than just a scheming noble acting out of line… no, the king was sure that there was a far greater threat behind all this. And now it would be upon him to find out who was behind this.

* * *

It had rained for more than a week before the first rays of sunlight shone upon the dreadful castle on Dragonstone. It had been a frustrating time for Senna, cooped up inside the keep, with only the queen mother, little Viserys and her ladies to keep her company. Even her dragon had done little to ease the boredom. When the sun finally showed itself, she had been one step away from ditching the people in the keep for a day or two, to return to Myr and enjoy some peaceful hours under the sun of her city and a good long soak in her large bath…

But on the seventh day of her stay, the rain stopped and the sun shone brightly. But the cold wind remained, much to the complaint of the keeps current residents. Senna was not bothered by the wind, yet the same could not be said about Mina's complaints or Ashara's constant bickering with the older girl from the Reach. Even Elia's attempts to ease the tensions between the girls had done nothing to make them stop.

So Senna escaped. A visit to the village, that was just what she needed now. To see the people, her people. Anything to get away from this place and the haunting stories of its bloody past. Rhaella had protested vehemently against it, especially when Senna decided to wear breeches instead of the expensive dresses her handmaidens had brought for their queen. It was her first time that she dressed like this as Senna, not as her other self. Dorea had no place here on Dragonstone. The people here would need to see their queen, they deserve to see their queen. But walking through the streets of a poor place like this village, dressed like a queen, it would only end with a ruined dress and ruined moods.

So she walked towards the village, accompanied by a handful of guards. Of her ladies only Ashara had come along. Elia's feeble health had taken a hit in the cold rain and Mina had been called to attend the queen mother for the time of her pregnancy. It had been an odd request from Rhaella, who could have chosen any other lady in the Seven Kingdoms to be her own lady. Instead, she had asked for one of Senna's. She had had asked for Mina Tyrell, only the gods know why.

So now she was in the muddy streets, looking around with unabashed curiosity. The people watched from afar, some even hiding behind half-closed doors. To see the queen in their village, it was surprising and to most it must have been frightening. Or maybe it wasn't her, but the dozen armed men who followed her at a little distance.

Of all her guards, only Thoros and Oberyn stayed close to her, the later at a request of his sister. Elia was quite convincing when she had asked Senna to accept Oberyn as a guard for her outing. The queen relented, albeit reluctantly. She just did not want to argue with the Dornish princess, not when Elia was sick and weak.

"What a charming place. Just add some rats and mountains of dead people and it would be just like Flea Bottom," Oberyn said, as he looked around.

"The people are starving," Senna replied, as she looked around in shock. "I know that the winter has hit everyone hard, but their supplies should not have run out so soon."

The people she saw were haggard, slinking through the streets like mere shadows of a normal human being. Such misery here, in one of the parts of the realm that are still under her husband's direct control. And Rhaegar obviously had no idea about what was happening here.

"Your grace," an elderly man came and fell to his knees before her, as he bowed his head in respect. "My name is Alliser, your grace, I speak on behalf of this village and the people of Dragonstone. If there is anything you desire, I will strife to provide it."

"Rise, the ground is cold and dirty. All of you are weak and sickly enough as it is," Senna told him. "But tell me, what troubles your people."

"We are proud people, your grace. We do not beg for anything and provide for ourselves. But the storms have been devastating to our boats and the men can't sail out to catch fish. But we will manage. We always have."

And he was right. These people were indeed proud. There had been no pleas for help from their lord. No requests for aid, neither for food nor for boats to replace those that had been lost. Instead, this man had come to her, to see to her needs. It was so very different to the people she had seen in the capital. People who cried for the king to rectify even the slightest problems they encounter.

"Your people are strong. Living on this island must be hard, seeing how barren and dangerous it is," Senna told him.

"It is our home. Here we have served House Targaryen faithfully and without complaint," Alliser said proudly.

"But this village is barely qualified to be called just that," Ashara muttered. She stood only a step or two behind Senna and her words, though not meant for everyone, were heard by all those within earshot.

"We may have seen better days," Alliser admitted reluctantly. "But fear not your grace. You won't have to suffer this sight for long. Now that the storm has passed we shall clean this all up immediately."

"Don't mind me," Senna told him.

Her eyes roamed around, taking in the sight of beaten down village. Was this truly the consequence of just one storm? Or had the conditions always been this bad? No matter, it was just another point on her list. Things she would have to do if Rhaegar was unable to. Though he had been right and she knew that she would never be able to save everyone, she can at least try to make it easier for these people. For the first time in her multiple lives, she was a person with great power and influence. A power that, unlike her magic, could be freely used to aid the people. For the first time, she was not forced into the obscurity of a hidden society…


	11. Darkness

"Come here, Draco," Senna yelled out, as she looked up into the sky.

The once so little dragon had grown in leaps and bounds, far faster than she had expected. Half a year after its hatching, it had already reached the size of a sheep and had enough hunger to eat two sheep… a day.

Even the people on Dragonstone had quickly gotten used to the presence of a real dragon on their island. They had been almost excited about it, much to Senna's surprise. The stories about their glorious past, when the Targaryens began their conquest on this island, with three fully grown dragons, were ever present. And the prospect of a new dragon living on the island was a reason of joy and pride. She was sure that the people would have celebrated it, had it not been for their dire situation and the near constant lack of food.

Senna had sent a raven to Rhaegar, all but ordering him to send help for the people on this island. But except for the regular ships that supply the keep, nothing else had been sent. Not even the message she had sent back with that ships had been answered. It had irked her and she had sent several more letters, but the reaction remained the same. She had been close to apparating to King's Landing to give him a piece of her mind but decided against it. Too big was the risk of getting caught and she really did not want to face those questions. So she did what she could to help the people own her own… albeit with only little success.

Yet they survived and adored the dragon. The children of the village were always hiding behind the rocks nearby, whenever Senna was out with Draco. Their childish curiosity was a wonderful thing to behold, even though it pained her to see children so haggard. In all her lives she had never experienced the true meaning of starvation and even now she only knew it from an observers point of view.

The children nearby cheered, when Draco swooped down from the sky and landed right in front of her, it's mouth wide open, showing its long and sharp teeth. She threw him a piece of dried meat, which the dragon devoured eagerly.

"Ha, you can feed your little beast, but you can't show the children the kindness to save them from hunger," Death cackled darkly in her mind.

She groaned loudly. For weeks, the pain in her neck had not bothered her. She had even dared to hope that he might have gotten bored, now that she had rid this world of the greatest murderer in the Seven Kingdoms. But apparently he was still there and watching.

"You can't ignore me for long, my dear. Not when the darkness you fear is so much closer than ever," Death continued gleefully. "Finally, I will see my mistress grasping for the true power she has inherited."

"What do you want?" she muttered.

"What do think you Death would want? I want to be entertained! I want blood, despair, and carnage before I reap what is mine," Death told her.

"Just go and visit some world where you can watch the telly, but don't bother me," she thought darkly. "And nothing here is yours, as long as it still alive."

"Worlds without number feed my hunger, but there is only one person I can truly focus on. My sole mistress." Death cackled again, before he said, "Never forget, you are mine, just like I am yours."

After this ominous declaration, his presence faded again and the uncomfortable feeling of coldness and dread left her once more. But her mind was still elsewhere. Only when her dragon nudged her with its head, demanding another treat, she realized that she had been standing still for several minutes.

"No more, Draco. Nobody wants a fat dragon," she laughed lightly. Well, she did remember someone who would even love a fat dragon. But that half-giant would have loved any dragon, regardless of size, color, and physique. Hagrid would have loved to be here… but so would have most of the people she had known in her first life. This world was filled with wonders that he friends from her first life would have loved to explore… Her companions from her second life would have likely tried to conquer it, though… immortals and their egos...

"Your grace," someone called for her.

It was Mina, who approached her. But the girl was obviously wary of the dragon and her eyes strayed towards Draco more often than she must have wanted. But Senna had to admit, the Tyrell girl was persistent enough to continue where even grown men had stopped.

"Your grace, a moment of your time, please," Mina request cordially.

Unlike Ashara and Elia, there was still a distance between Senna and Mina that neither of them could overcome. Mina's actions around her queen always seemed forced and out of place, where Ashara's youthful eagerness and Elia's indulgent benevolence created an easy camaraderie.

But Senna also knew that her budding friendship with two Dornish noble ladies was the reason for some strife in the capital. There were much more who would have wished to join her entourage as one of her ladies-in-waiting, but she had only chosen three. Two from Dorne, one from the Reach. But neither the daughter of Lord Tywin nor one of the Tully girls had been called upon to serve her. Ambitious men saw this as an affront, though some knew better than to stir trouble over this issue. There were even enough smaller houses with hopeful daughters, who wished to rise above their station by following the queen. Senna knew that more than a dozen had petitioned the king to choose more ladies for his wife. She could only scoff at their audacity.

"What can I do for you, Mina?"

Mina remained silent for a long moment, obviously to consider her words carefully. "May I ask what you would have me do in your service, your grace?"

Senna's brows furrowed in confusion, as she did not understand what this girl wanted from her. Mina had carefully chosen her words to sound respectful, but she only ended up missing her point. She grew more anxious as she realized this.

"What would I have you do?" Senna repeated, slowly, as a question.

"Yes, your grace. It is just… I have been your lady for over half a year now, but so far I feel..."

"Left out?" Senna provided helpfully.

Mina cringed slightly, though Senna did not see the issue here, "Forgive me, your grace. It is just… you have taken Lady Ashara under your wing to teach her whatever she needs to know about the courts in Westeros and beyond and Princess Elia acts as you, adviser and confidant. And I… I have been sent away, to attend the queen mother..."

"Are you unhappy, Mina?" Senna asked her directly. "We all serve where we are needed the most, even I as queen. But if this lot in life troubles you, I will help you. Just say the word and I will arrange for your return to Highgarden. It wouldn't feel right to keep you here when this life makes you miserable."

Senna knew that she had overdone it. But she wanted to push Mina a little bit. The further she got this girl out of her comfort zone the better. Mina was in every way the epitome of a noble southron lady. Well mannered, educated and with a sly wit. But she was also trapped in the roles other have chosen for her. If what she had heard from Rhaella is correct, then Mina was little more than her mother's puppet, something that would not do for one of the queen's ladies.

"No. No, please, your grace. I did not mean it like that. I mean I do miss Highgarden, but I don't want to leave your service. But so far I have done little to serve you," Mina quickly tried to salvage the situation, as she reacted exactly how Senna had expected her to.

"Then tell me, Mina. What would you do for me? What can you do for the queen?"

Mina looked surprised, maybe even shocked, before she deflated visibly. The girl was cunning and had it not been for Rhaella's warning some weeks before, Senna might not have seen the many schemes this girl had tried to start. The queen mother had foiled most of these attempts, much to Mina's annoyance.

"I will… I will serve however you need me to," Mina relented. But both of them knew that this was just round one. A round Senna had only won due to Rhaella's interference.

"Then come. There is much to do and I can need your help," Senna told her. "Draco, follow." She commanded the dragon before she walked back towards the keep.

* * *

"This is madness," Lord Steffon cried out. "Fires don't start just like that. And they don't burn down half of the city's poorest district without anyone noticing it. The commander of the Gold Cloak's is without a doubt lying to us."

"And what if he is," Lord Tywin asked calmly. "Tell me, Steffon, what would do if you had proof the man has lied about this event?"

"Banish him to Wall. Too many people have died because of this incident," Steffon replied hotly.

Some of the other lords in attendance nodded, others seemed more reluctant. But most would defer to whatever the Hand of the King would decide. They always did and always would, unless the king is present for the council meetings.

"That would be most unwise and preposterous," Lord Mace protested.

The other lords looked at him in surprise. Seldom had they heard Mace Tyrell speak openly about his own thoughts. More often than not he was bullied into following the decrees of the Hand, even when they would have unforeseeable consequences for the Reach.

"The commander is a cousin of Lord Ashford, I will not stand for this. Sent to the Wall because of some dead peasants," the lord of the Reach complained further.

"He will not be held responsible for the death of the Smallfolk, but for lying to his king," King Rhaegar announced loudly, as he strutted into the council chamber, closely followed by Ser Arthur and Lord Commander Selmy.

"Your grace," Mace stuttered, as he recoiled visibly and sank back into his chair.

"Forgive my lateness, but I had some other business to attend to beforehand," the king said, as he took his place at the large table. Ser Barristan sat down as well, on the seat reserved only for the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. Ser Arthur never left the king's side and stood half a foot behind his chair, his gaze roaming over the table, as he watched the lords in attendance with a critical eye.

"It is good that you are here, your grace. There is another matter of utmost importance that has to be addressed," Tywin began imperiously, as he looked directly at Rhaegar. The lord's face was grim as usual. "The merchants and some of the lower nobles in the city wish to claim the destroyed part of the city, so they can further their own interests. Some even went as far as requesting for the rest of Flea Bottom's population to be evicted from the city entirely."

"The rundown settlement outside of the city wall's is already growing too big. Send any more and we will cause a riot," Steffon said scathingly. "Let those survivors keep what little they have left. The last thing we need is rioting peasants in the streets."

"I have already made plans for the burnt down part of the city. The merchants will not get any more land in my city," Rhaegar replied. He had seen the greed of the merchants and guilds in King's Landing. He even had the suspicion that the fire might have been much more intentional than they wanted him to believe.

"Your grace, the profits we would make from the additional fees and taxes would add a lot of gold to the treasuries of the Iron Throne. Would you at least consider the merchants' proposal first?" Tywin asked insistently.

"Lord Steffon, how much gold do we have in our treasury at this moment," the king asked his Master of Coin.

"Five vaults are overflowing with coins, your grace. The sixth houses gems and jewelry of almost twice the worth of the other five. Years of excellent management have filled your treasury to the brim," Steffon replied proudly. He had gestured several times towards Tywin, to emphasize whose excellent management they had to thank for this. The lord of Casterly Rock rewarded this open praise only with a curt nod.

"Then why would I need even more gold? Especially from such dangerous people?" Rhaegar asked the men on his council. "No, I will not allow these merchants to get even richer after what they have done. The crown will seize all the burned down areas of the city and put them to good use. The burnt down part of Flea Bottom will be torn down and new structures will be built. And no, we will not use the land to resettle other impoverished people. There had been far too many people in Flea Bottom, which only aided the spread of this last plague. Something like this must be prevented."

"But this way we only send the sick out of the city. The settlements outside will be overrun by those who flee from their farms," Steffon cautioned them.

"Then sent them back home! Most of the are from the Riverlands, so have the Tullys come and collect their people," Mace protested loudly, in an attempt to add anything of note to the discussion.

"Hoster Tully will care little about these people. They are sick and weak, he would rather send us more of their kind, to spare his own lands the trouble of dealing with the plague," Tywin scoffed.

"We will decide about what to do with these settlements at another time. For now our business is concluded. Lord Tywin, please inform the merchants of my decision and see to it that the land is properly claimed in the name of the crown," Rhaegar ordered before he stood up again to leave the room.

He was so very tired now. Too many things he could not leave in the hands of the council. Capable as they were, their interests were not his. And more often than not, his own vision of the Seven Kingdoms would have to be adapted to the situation he had to deal with.

Arthur followed him out of the council chamber and into the throne room, which was mostly deserted at this time of the day. A few servants were here, busy with their duties, paying no heed to their king unless he needed them.

He walked past the giant skulls of his family's dragons like he had done so many times in his life. He remembered the first time his father had taken him along and told him about each and every one of the dragons. He had been a different man at that time. A better man… a good father. His father had always loved the dragons and the stories. But love soon turned into obsession and obsession became lunacy. Would he face the same fate one day? Maddened by the desire for that which he would never have, only to be killed one day…

Senna… she had killed him. Here in this room. The skulls still showed signs of the fire. They had been blackened by it, but not even the wildfire was enough to destroy them. Dragons are creatures of fire and it would never hurt them. Not even their dead remains. It was so very odd in a way.

"What are you thinking about?" Arthur asked him. "You look far too melancholic at the moment. The people shouldn't see their king like this."

Rhaegar chuckled mirthlessly. "I just remembered the day, when my father told me the stories of all these dragons. He knew them all by heart."

"And so do you," Arthur replied, "You can do the same for your son."

"If I ever have a son," Rhaegar replied with a sigh. "These days I wonder whether it was a mistake to send Senna away. It's been almost seven months now since she has left and sometimes I wonder if she will ever return."

"And why wouldn't she? She likes you, does she not?"

He hoped so… it seemed to be the case before she had left. But too much time apart from each other could easily cool any feelings they might have harbored for each other. The separation was too soon in their marriage and she was quite displeased by his decision to send her away.

"As your friend I have to tell you that you worry too much," Arthur told him honestly. "A few more months and she will be back here to make sure that you don't mess up too much as king."

They both shared a small laugh before they fell silent again. Maybe Arthur was right and he worried needlessly. But even if Senna returns… when Senna returns, he corrected his own thoughts, but even then, she would be in great danger.

"We need to root out the rest of this cult. I want them all found and executed before my wife returns from Dragonstone. I will not allow them to do as they please in my city, in my realm."

"We are on it, but it is not that easy, your grace," Arthur sighed, "We have found half a dozen of them already and all of them had been hidden very carefully among the servants and constant visitors of the Red Keep. Whoever their leader is, he has started this scheme long before your wife even came here."

"Yes, but now that she is here, they target her and only her. I want to know why and I want to see them all punished for this transgression," Rhaegar declared strongly.

"As you wish. I will have the boys work twice as hard," Arthur promised. "Maybe I can find some more trustworthy men, but it's better to be careful for now."

Rhaegar nodded, as a grim look settled on his face. He would not falter, he would prevail. He would create the world where his family can live in peace. The family he has now and the one he will have with Senna in the future. And if it takes fire and blood… so be it.

* * *

"Come on, Lannister. Keep up," Myles yelled, as he and Richard walked onto the training yard of the Red Keep.

The king's squires had landed themselves the great duty to take part in the training of Ser Arthur Dayne's new squire, Jaime Lannister. And they had taken over this duty quite eagerly. Too eagerly and gleefully. At least Jaime thought so.

He trotted after them, though rather unwilling, as he cursed whatever god he might have pissed off enough to end up with those two fools. Their service to the king had made them boisterous and arrogant. They treated him as if they were his equal or worse, his betters. Oh, how he hated them already. But it had been Ser Arthur's order to go with them and he would follow his orders.

His father had told him unmistakably, that he should do nothing that would disgrace House Lannister. To serve one of the finest knights in the realm was an honor. One that his father obviously could have done without.

"Today we are going to teach you how to fight with a sword," Myles proclaimed loudly.

"I already know how to fight with a sword. I've had the finest tutors in the Seven Kingdoms. What are you, an imbecile?" Jaime asked the other squire scathingly.

"Well, well. Looks like the golden Lannister needs a reminder about who is in charge here," Myles told Richard, who looked bored at the quarrel.

"Do what you have to, Myles, and be done with it. Maybe I can get a drink after this is over," Richard replied. He yawned loudly before he retreated to the nearby wall and sat down, leaning against, his wooden practice sword in his lap.

"Well come then, golden boy," Myles said, as he charged towards Jaime.

The older squire was sure of his own prowess and the advantage his age and mass gave him over the younger boy. But Jaime was not so easy to beat. True to his word, he showed what he had learned from his tutors and deflected Myles' attacks with bored ease. He even landed some painful hits of his own.

Myles, angered and humiliated by this, only attacked with even greater ferocity. But again the best he got were some superficial hits on the young Lannister. And even these he had to pay for with several painful bruises.

"So, enough warm up for now? When are you going to teach me anything," Jaime asked Myles with a smug smirk.

"Damn you, Lannister!" Myles spat. "Richard, come here and help me teach this bastard a lesson."

"I have you know that my parents were married and quite happy when I was born. How about yours?" Jaime asked him mockingly.

"You just wait!" Myles shot back. "Richard."

The other squire cursed loudly before he got up from his place and approached his quarreling companions. He gave his training sword some swings before he joined Myles in his foolish endeavor.

"Just this once, Myles," Richard said, "Defend yourself, Lannister."

And so both squires began their assault on Jaime. Brash and violent, barely restraint they tried to hit the boy. But he still held his own against them. Neither of them knew for how long they tried to beat each other, but neither side managed to gain the upper hand.

Their fight continued until they were interrupted by one of the Red Keep's most frequent visitors theses days. Robert Baratheon, who spent most of the time in the training yard, unless his father, Lord Steffon, had need of him. And as usual, wherever Robert went, Eddard Stark wasn't far.

"Look at you. A shame to all true warriors," Robert let out a barking laugh, "Two men can't beat up one young Lannister!"

"Peace, Robert. They are just training," Eddard admonished.

"Still, this is a pathetic display of inability. The king must be quite ashamed of his squires," Robert continued.

Myles was about to say something when Richard quickly grabbed him in a choke hold and pulled him away. Picking fights with a squire, son of a big lord or not, was one thing. Picking a fight with the heir of a lord paramount and a member of the king's Small Council… that would be political suicide… even for the king's squire.

Robert chuckled, amused by this sight when his eyes found the young Lannister, who looked bored at the scene. And even while doing that, the Lannister looked smug. Oh, how Robert hates Lannister for that…

Yet their entire situation suddenly changed completely, when a scream from above startled them all. It came from a man, who fell out of one of the windows, two floors above them.

The man hit the ground almost right next to Robert. He was dead, the moment he had hit the floor… or maybe even before that. A sword still stuck between his ribs.

"Seven hells," Robert cursed, as he crouched down next to the dead man.

From the way he was dressed, he had obviously been a servant. But who would kill servants? Had this man seen something he should not have? Some sort of plot perhaps and a hapless servant who was at the wrong place at the wrong time. But then he saw the black knife, still held tightly in the man's right hand. It was small and easy to conceal, most definitely not a tool a servant would need inside the Red Keep. His suspicion was proven right, when Lord Commander Selmy ran into the yard, followed by half a dozen guards, all with their swords out.

"Is he dead, lad?" the Lord Commander asked.

"I could stab him once or twice more, but that would hardly change anything. If the fall has not killed him, the sword has.

Selmy knelt next to Robert and examined the dead body. When he saw the knife, a look of grim satisfaction spread on his face.

"That's another of those would be murderers," he muttered.

"Murderers?" Ned asked. He had joined Robert only moments ago and only heard those last few words of the Lord Commander.

"Aye, lad. You two are friends of the queen, are you not?"

"We are," Robert confirmed.

"Then keep your eyes open for people who act strangely. There is a plot to murder Queen Senna and there are far more hidden enemies in the keep than we can even begin to imagine," the knight said gravely.

Robert and Ned looked once more at the dead man, only this time with looks of contempt. They may have only known Senna for less than a year before she had left again, but they would not allow anyone to harm her.

* * *

It was an exceptionally cold day, as Senna slowly ambled through the village once more. She had only returned the day before, after some weeks of visiting a few of the different lords sworn to the lord of Dragonstone.

The Velaryons of Driftmark had been ecstatic to meet her and did their utmost to make her feel welcome and happy among them. She spent nearly a week as their guest and used the time to get to know the family that had more often than any other married members of House Targaryen. Yet despite the overly celebrated friendship, Senna could see the desperation in their acts. Their House had lost much influence on the rulers of the Seven Kingdoms and nothing would please them more than new titles… or another marriage into the royal family. It was why the Lord of Driftmark paraded his young son before the queen, praising him above all others. She only smiled benignly, spoke some pleasantries, but made no promises whatsoever.

Yet she also lost track of time, as she enjoyed the wonders of Driftmark, the largest island next to Dragonstone in the Blackwater Bay. So she had barely arrived in Sweetport Sound, the home of the pious House Sunglass when a raven from Dragonstone arrived with the request for her to return immediately. Lord Sunglass was quite saddened by this, maybe even more, though he wouldn't dare to say so to the queen. But on the promise that she would return someday for a longer visit, he sent a dozen ships with her as an escort and presented her with a gift. A necklace made of pale gold and seven finely carved moonstones, a beautiful piece of craftsmanship that she had taken to wear ever since.

On the day of her return, Senna learned about why the queen mother had asked for her return. As if Rhaella was a seer, she had gone into labor on the day Senna's ship set anchor in the harbor of Dragonstone. The former queen had wanted her daughter to be present for this.

But it wasn't an easy birth and the woman had already been in labor for more than a day, when Senna, driven by boredom and a good measure of nervousness had decided to take a walk through the village to calm herself.

She wasn't sure why she felt so anxious being close to Rhaella. Maybe it was the obvious pain that the woman was in. More than even Senna's subtle spells were able to ease. The knowledge that she would go through the same one day was enough to fray even her nerves. This wasn't her first life as a woman, but in her previous life, she had died too young to even consider becoming a mother. Now she was even younger and having children in the near future was not optional but mandatory.

At least out here, in the cold of the winter afternoon, she could find something to ease her mind. Only accompanied by Ashara, Thoros, and Oberyn, she tried to find something, anything to soothe her nerves.

"Am I the only one here who freezes to death in this cold wind," Ashara lamented.

Senna could see how the young girl looked at her almost envious. If only she knew about the wonderful invention called heating charms. Sadly she couldn't cast one on Ashara. She had yet to tell the girl about her… special abilities. Maybe she would once they are back in King's Landing. Ser Arthur's little sister was quickly earning herself a spot among the queen's trusted.

"Warm thoughts, girl. Just think warm thoughts," Thoros told her sagely.

But Ashara merely furrowed her brows and looked confused at the man.

"What is he talking about?"

"Don't mind him. He is likely too drunk to feel cold at any time," Senna told her before she laughed lightly. "He has to be the greatest drunkard among all the servants of the Lord of Light."

"Well, I've told you before that I am not a good priest. But even piss drunk I am a better fighter than most of your anointed knights," Thoros replied with a chuckle. "But don't worry, little lady, you and your queen are in good hands here."

"Yes, because I am around to keep them safe," Oberyn interjected smugly.

Senna was still rather uncomfortable with him around, but she took the Dornish prince with her on most of her outings here, as a favor for his sister, who had quickly wormed her way into Senna's heart. Though the queen was still not sure how she had done it. Maybe it was the calm, almost motherly tone that Elia uses when she speaks to her. Or maybe it is the confidence Senna had in Elia's discretion. Either way, she was glad that she had decided to keep Elia around, even if that meant that Oberyn had to stay as well. At least he had learned his lesson and had not tried to bed any more of her friends… yet.

"What do think it will be?"

"Will what be, Ashara?" Senna asked for clarification.

"The baby. Queen Rhaella already has two sons, a daughter would be nice, right?"

Oberyn only snorted when he heard this, "But of course. Little Viserys needs a wife as well. That is unless there are more supposedly extinct former royal houses of Valyria out there somewhere."

"Maybe there are," Senna told him idly, "I actually never bothered to look for them, but I would be surprised if all of them have gone extinct during the doom. The dragonlords weren't many, but they liked to travel with their dragons."

"Then maybe there is hope for the little prince, even if his mother gives birth to yet another boy," Oberyn said in a mock jubilant mood. Senna decided not to comment on this, it would only end with an argument and she was in no mood for that.

They continued on their path, as the villagers greeted their queen happily whenever she passed their homes. The initial reluctance and fear of their overlords had waned after some time and soon enough they had begun to love their queen. Senna didn't like it, though. She had done nothing to earn their devotion. In Myr, she had used her knowledge to better the lives of all people, but here… she could do nothing for these people. Not from here, at least. The day she returns to King's Landing, she would do everything in her power to ease the suffering of the people here.

"Your grace," the village elder, Alliser came to her. He looked even more haggard and burdened than the last time she had seen him. It was wearing him down to care for the people when he was even more powerless than Senna.

"Master Alliser, good day to you. Everything is well, I hope," Senna greeted the man friendly.

A troubled look passed over the man's face, but it disappeared too fast for Senna to fully grasp what it was. But something was amiss, that much was for sure. It put her on edge. If there were any problems on Dragonstone, it would be upon her to find a solution.

"Is there a problem, Master Alliser," she asked worriedly.

The man walked a bit closer to her. She assumed it was so he wouldn't have to speak too loudly. Many villagers were around and could possibly hear him talk otherwise.

"My queen… I am so sorry… so terribly sorry about this..." Alliser muttered.

He stumbled and nearly crashed into Senna, had it not been for Oberyn holding him back. It didn't matter, though. He was very close now. Too close… He pulled a knife from a pocket and lunged for her…

The ground was bathed in blood and the screams of the terrified villagers could be heard for miles if not even further. Senna, shocked by the sudden turn of events could only stare as Oberyn and Thoros jumped into action and Ashara pulled on her arm to drag her away. But she just stood there, shocked and angry. She could only stare at the blood on the ground before her… and the bloody arm, which Thoros had cut off mere seconds before the knife would have burrowed into her body.

Master Alliser was on the ground as well, screaming as he held the stump where his arm had been before. He was in agony, but his eyes still found hers. And what she saw were not the eyes of the sorrowful village chief, but rather eyes filled with utmost contempt and hatred.

"Why?" Senna asked angrily. "I am here to do what I can to help my people. Yet you try to kill me! Why?"

"The phoenix must die, so the long night can begin. My lord wants you dead, so we do his bidding! You may stop me, but others will take my place," Alliser yelled at her, "We will snuff out your light and destroy you!"

"Who is it? Who do you serve?" she demanded to know.

But Alliser didn't answer. He merely grinned at her, the same mad glint still in his eyes. Only when Oberyn stomped onto his chest, Alliser spoke again.

"You believe yourself untouchable, witch! You believe that you are the master of death itself, but soon you will learn that there is an existence beyond death and our lord is its master!" Alliser yelled in rage.

"I've had it with megalomaniac dark lords and titans. You want a fight, come and get it," Senna replied angrily.

But Alliser wasn't bothered at all. He merely smirked at her, as if he had already won the fight. "You have no idea, girl. You have already lost!" He chuckled darkly before he grunted in pain. Moments later he was dead when Thoros rammed his sword through his heart to end him.

"Milady, we should head back to the castle," Thoros urged her. "It is not safe out here. Who knows how many more of these would be murderers are lurking out here."

Senna hesitated at first. But when she saw Ashara's frightened face and the innocent villagers fleeing all around them, she relented and quickly turned around to return to the keep. But on the way there, a feeling of cold dread took hold of her. If someone like Alliser would suddenly turn out to be an agent of some new dark lord, who else was also a traitor here? And why had she only found out about this yet…

* * *

The moment she set foot in the keep, all gates were shut tight and the guards were doubled. An attack on the queen, in broad daylight no less. This was a disaster and it might very well cost them all their lives, should anything happen to Senna under their care.

But to Senna, their concerns mattered little at that moment. She had left the shell-shocked Ashara in Elia's care and returned back to Rhaella's side. Maybe she should have stayed all along… but then she wouldn't have found out about Alliser's duplicity… No. She would have found out about that sooner or later.

She shook that thought from her head. It wouldn't do to dwell on that now. For Rhaella's sake, she had to at least fake some happiness. Worrying her in her current situation would be wrong. There was time later, to tell her mother about this. Once she had some time to rest… after giving birth. Senna only prayed that the child would be healthy. Rhaella had lost too many of her children already, so Senna wasn't sure if the former queen would be able to live on, knowing that only two of her children had survived past infancy.

As she arrived at the queen mother's chambers, she was greeted by the two members of the Kingsguard, who stood in the hallway to guard the door. They bowed slightly before her, not that Senna would have noticed. No, she was surprised, that there were no sounds to hear. When she had left, Rhaella had screamed in pain… but now she was silent. Had the child already been born? Had she really missed this important moment for her family?

She quickly pushed the door open to enter, not even caring enough to knock. She was looking forward to seeing her new brother or sister. Something happy on this messed up day.

But her life was never meant to be happy. Something or someone would always try to destroy here… even now…

As she entered the room, she did not see a happy but exhausted mother, cradling her newborn babe. Instead, she entered a room that looked like a slaughterhouse. The Maester, the servant, and the queen, all dead. All lying in pools of their own blood. Only one of the former occupants was still alive, one of the servants who had been there to take care of the babe. The woman was covered in copious amounts of blood, a long knife still in her hands, blood dripping from its sharp edge. And the knife was poised to stab the small bundle on the table… the baby.

"NO!" Senna yelled, as her magic acted almost on its own.

The servant girl was thrown against the wall on the other side of the room, with so much force that loud cracks could be heard. Senna did not know whether the sounds had come from crushed bones or the cracked wall, but she sincerely hoped that it was the former.

"You murdering scum will pay for this!" she yelled, "Crucio!"

Now it was the servant's turn to scream in agony, as Senna fueled the spell with all the rage she could muster. A curse that even Voldemort would have been afraid of. But Senna did not care. She wanted revenge. It was all that occupied her mind now.

Prince Lewyn and Ser Jonothor ran into the room as they heard the screaming. They were stumped by the carnage that had happened under their watch and by the sight of their queen. Vengeance turned to flesh, their beloved queen looked frightening in her rage. Especially the fact that some strange red light left the palm of her hand and connected her to a bloodied servant on the ground, who screamed in utter agony.

"Your grace," Prince Lewyn called out to her.

Only then she relented and lifted the curse. But the servant was still twitching uncontrollably. The damage done by the curse would be irrevocable. Not that the murderer would live for long enough to suffer the long-term effects. Senna wouldn't allow it.

"You! Why have you done this? Why her," Senna demanded, tears streaming from her eyes. "It is me you want! Isn't it! So why her?"

More people had come, guards and servants alike, all shocked by the scene. Oberyn and Thoros were among them. And Mina. The Tyrell girl was as pale as the snow but approached her queen none the less.

"Answer me!" Senna yelled at the servant again.

The murderer chuckled madly, "Do it. My demise accomplishes nothing. The master will have you. You will drown in your own blood! The whole world will drown darkness!"

Senna knelt down next to the girl and took the knife she had lost, "We all die some day. But for you, there is nothing beyond death. I assure you that." She said coldly before she placed the knife at the girl's throat and cut it open from ear to ear. "Send your master my regards if you see him."

She stood up after this and stumbled a few steps back. She would have fallen, had Oberyn not been there to catch her. But she felt lost. Utterly lost in this situation. Her eyes found Rhaella once more. The woman who had tried her best to be a mother for her, ever since the Mad King had left this world. Now she was dead. Like all parents, she has ever had. Murdered for the sake of some mad scheme to conquer the world.

She fell to her knees, despite Oberyn's best efforts to hold her and she wept. She wept for another gentle soul lost. For another family ruined because of her. And she wept for herself. Even in her third life she was unable to prevent such horrors. Too slow, too weak… too foolish.

"Your grace," Mina was next to her and spoke gently, "We are here for you." Then the girl embraced her. Senna did not react, she just continued to cry as the feeling of brokenness returned. A feeling that she had hoped to never experience again.

But her bout of self-pity ended, when a wail silenced everyone in the room. The baby, which had been moments away from sharing its mother's fate.

Senna slowly pulled herself up from the ground and approached the table, where the baby lay, wrapped up in warm blankets. Almost timidly she reached for the child, afraid that something might happen if she picked it up. But as she took it in her arms, the baby stopped wailing and looked at her with big, curious eyes, colored the same lilac as Rhaegar's…

"Is the baby alright, your grace," Ser Jonothor asked. He kept his distance from her and Senna could see that he was obviously afraid of her now. But concern for the last child of the late King Aerys was more important to him than his personal fears.

"Yes… he… no, she is alright," Senna said slowly. She had to look briefly to see if it was a boy or a girl. It was the latter. In the end, Rhaella's dream of a daughter had been granted… but she would never be able to enjoy holding her daughter… and neither would the baby ever know its mother.

"What is her name?" Mina asked curiously.

It was such a simple question, but so odd at the same time. Here they stood, in a room full of dead bodies, the queen mother among these victims. It was a sight of carnage and armed men now filled almost every corner of the spacious room. And in this situation, Mina asked about the name of the baby… Senna had a hard time coming to terms with this. But she knew about Rhaella's wishes.

"Daenerys. It was Queen Rhaella's wish to name her daughter Daenerys of House Targaryen," she replied simply. Oddly enough the girl seemed to react to the name. There was no way for her to understand that it was hers. Not yet, not so soon after her birth. But laughed lightly when she heard the name.

Senna almost envied her for this. To feel happy despite the sadness of this day. To be innocent like a newborn babe once more… at this very moment, she truly envied Daenerys for this. But the girl would have a hard life in front of her. But as she looked at the baby, Senna vowed that she would sooner die than seeing this girl harmed. Daenerys Targaryen would have a better life ahead of her… at least a better one than Senna Peverell…


	12. The Phoenix

It had been late at night and he had long retired to sleep when a servant woke him. A guest. At this late hour. He would be lying if he claimed to be happy, but when the servant insisted that the lady waiting for him had come in an urgent matter, the magister had relented and dragged himself towards the entrance hall.

It was in moments like these, that he felt his age the most. As a young man, he had been quick and always ready for whatever business or mischief would await him. But Magister Cossomo Mercor was no longer a young man, but an honored elder… He did not feel honored. Not by his age at least. His bones were stubborn and his muscles were gone.

He cursed lightly under his breath, as he finally reached the entrance to his mansion. He surely wasn't the most pleasing sight, bowed and disheveled as he was, but his guest would have to live with it. He was in no mood to be accommodating.

"Magister Cossomo Mercor, first of the Conclave of Myr," the servant announced loudly, as soon as Cossomo had entered the room. The old man sent his servant a sour look since his booming voice had likely woken up every damn soul in the whole mansion.

"It is good to see you again, magister. You are in good health, I hope," his guest said calmly.

He looked curiously at the woman. Her face was still obscured, as was the rest of her, making it hard to tell who she really is. He could only hope that his guards had not gotten lax and let in an armed killer at this late hour. But the voice… he was sure he recognized it. But his mind would not provide the answer he was searching for. Only when she pulled down her hood and long silver blond hair was revealed, Cossomo realized who she was.

"Lady Senna… ah, forgive this old man. It is Queen Senna now. I would have attended your wedding, had there not been important votes that I had to be present for." He masked his surprise quickly, not that it would have been hard. Seeing her back in Myr was rather satisfying.

She smiled kindly at him, as she approached him and took his hands in hers. She squeezed them lightly, as she told him, "Here in Myr I will always be just Lady Senna, magister. Myr does not have a queen. Myr does not need a queen."

"Yet you could have been just that. The conclave would have gladly crowned you, had you just stayed in Myr and married a son of Myr," he told her. "But as much as it pleases me to see you, I must ask why you are here."

Her smile waned quickly and a look of sorrow spread on her face. "I… I am in need of your help."

He nodded lightly, before he offered her his arm, to lead her further into his mansion. "Of course. But first, let us find some comfortable place and something to drink. Come, my dear."

He lead her into a room with several large recliners. His favorite room where he would only entertain his most valued guests. Richly furnished and homely. He ordered one of his servants to bring refreshments, while the others lit countless candles in the room.

"So tell me, Lady Senna, what can I do for you," Cossomo finally asked. His eyes strayed for a moment, up towards the man who had come with her. He still hid his face, but the way he stood behind the lady at all times, it was clear that he was her bodyguard.

Senna noticed his gaze and explained, "This is Thoros, a Red Priest from Myr's temple and my personal guard." The man in question finally revealed his face and inclined his head towards the magister.

"It pleases me to see that you put your safety into the hands of a myrish man, not one of those flimsy Westerosi knights," Cossomo told her with a smug look on his face. She chuckled as she saw this since she knew well enough how prideful her own people can be.

"She's in good hands, magister," Thoros assured him.

"I hope so. You wouldn't like the consequences, young man," Cossomo threatened lightly. "But still, you haven't answered me yet, my dear."

Senna sighed deeply. Now, in this properly lit room, the magister could see the sorrow in her eyes. And the more he saw this, the greater his anger grew. Anger at the men and the realm that had taken her from Myr. The people who had turned the shining light in her eyes into a dark abyss.

"What has your husband done? Do you need to get away from him? Just one word, my dear, and every able-bodied man in Myr will stand ready to defend your from that despicable king and his knights."

"No. No. No. This has nothing to do with my husband. Not entirely, at least," Senna quickly assured him. "Rhaegar has been nothing but kind and loving to me. He is not the problem."

"But something has happened," the magister sighed, "You wouldn't be here otherwise. Lady Senna, please stop torturing this old man and just tell me what has happened."

"My new family is in danger. My mother-in-law has been murdered only moments after giving birth to her daughter and even my life has been threatened. Unassuming people, long time servants, and trusted workers have turned against me and the royal family and… maybe I am overreacting here, but I feel like I can't trust the Westerosi people to protect my family."

He listened intently and bit his tongue even as he wanted to curse loudly. To hear that there had been attempts on her life was maddening, even though he had to admit that it wasn't entirely unexpected. But that she had to suffer such losses again, that angered him greatly. Judging by the pained look on her face, she had already formed some sort of bond with her mother-in-law. And anyone who knows Senna's past could easily see how much this death had hurt her. Most of her maternal influences had met a similar fate… as if the girl was cursed.

"Magister… I need you to triple the guards around my estate. Subtly, of course. No one except for my servants shall be allowed to enter or leave."

"Of course. As long as you stay here, we will protect you with our lives," the magister assured her.

But she shook her head softly. "It isn't me whom I ask you to protect, but my brother and newborn sister. Here they are out of reach for anyone in the Seven Kingdoms. Only a few trusted people from the west shall stay with them to ensure that they are raised in the customs of their homeland. But Viserys and Daenerys need this protection. I can defend myself, but they are little children caught up in the deadly schemes of grown men."

The magister remained silent for some moments, as he mulled over what she had asked of him. She wants him to protect Targaryens. The siblings of King Rhaegar Targaryen. And from the way she has said it, the king would not be privy to this secret arrangement. There was some danger in this. Should the king or anyone else in Westeros find out about this, they might spin this to give them an excuse to attack Myr. An abduction of royal children would be a severe insult to the Westerosi realm. But at the same time, all of this would happen on the request of their queen… yet that did not make this whole ordeal any less dangerous for Myr. Not to mention that it bothered him that she would return to Westeros on her own. Back to the place where people would try to kill her.

"I know that I should refuse," the magister sighed, "but for you, we will keep those children safe."

"Thank you, magister, I..."

"Under one condition," he interrupted her. "You will not return to Westeros on your own. You will take myrish men with myrish steel with you."

A look of contemplation passed over her features, before she softly shook her head, "I can't do that. I need men that I can trust absolutely. I just don't have the time to choose men and test their loyalty."

The old magister laughed, as he heard this. "You shouldn't worry about this. I'm not talking about just any men, but faithful warriors of the Lord of Light."

Senna looked unconvinced, but Thoros was obviously quite intrigued by this idea. At least the look on his face told her as much.

"I doubt that..."

"Your mentor," the magister began, "This Lady Melisandre, some months ago she showed up at the Red Temple here in Myr and spoke to the men and priests. She spoke about the promised child, Azor Ahai. And she spoke about the woman who will bring him into this world. She is quite the enthralling beast, that mentor of yours. Whipped up their devotion to the Phoenix, who will bring the light back into this world."

Senna frowned as she heard this. The look on her face revealed much about her thoughts. She was obviously displeased by her mentor's actions. But at the same time, she knew the value of the fanatic warriors that serve the temples. If they believe in her, only death would stop them from carrying out their duty.

"And you truly believe that they will follow me," she asked for clarification.

"Without a doubt," the magister replied. "But maybe it is better for you to see for yourself. Let us visit the temple in the morning and choose the men who will follow you into the darkness and back again."

"I… alright. I will visit the temple with you. But only briefly. Time is of the essence now and the longer I am gone, the more likely my absence will be noticed."

* * *

The council meeting had been well under way and the lords had quarreled for almost an hour when the Grand Maester joined them. Rhaegar, annoyed by the inconsequential squabbling of his lords, looked at the old man with great interest. Even in his old age, Pycelle had always been punctual. His absence at the beginning of the meeting had been noted and they had even sent a servant to look for the man. Now he was here and he carried a small piece of paper in his hands.

"Grand Maester! How nice of you to join us," Tywin growled darkly. It was obvious that the Hand of the King was quite displeased, though Rhaegar had no clue as to why Tywin Lannister would have need of the Grand Maester.

"Forgive me, your grace, my lords," Pycelle huffed. "I have been detained by an urgent matter."

"What is it?" Tywin demanded to know, "Out with it, we ain't got all day."

Pycelle looked worried for a moment. His beady eyes sought the king and begged for some sort of aid. But Rhaegar was just as curious and allowed Tywin to continue.

"Your grace… this is a personal matter that should not be discussed here. Not even in front of this council..." Pycelle said weakly.

"Speak freely, Grand Maester," Rhaegar ordered. Whatever Pycelle had to say, the men on the council would find out about it sooner or later. At least this way he knew where they have gotten their information from.

"As you wish, your grace," Pycelle conceded. He held up the piece of paper he had in his hand and said, "This letter has arrived from Dragonstone earlier with important news pertaining the royal family."

Rhaegar perked up when he heard that. He could only imagine one reason why they would write him. His mother must have given birth. A joyous occasion. The whole city would celebrate this day. The people could do with some reason to be happy, despite the winter, the plague and the fire ravaging the cities poorest.

"Your majesty… I am so very sorry, but her grace, the queen has died," Pycelle said mournfully.

The room was deadly silent, as all eyes in the room were focused on the king now. Rhaegar was pale, shocked by this. The queen… Is Senna dead? How? Why? Had they missed some of the assassins? Surely they couldn't have come as far as Dragonstone…

"Senna is..."

The Grand Maester looked surprised when Rhaegar uttered the name of his wife and was about to correct his mistake when Lord Steffon stormed towards him in a moment of righteous fury and snatched the letter from his hand.

"Queen mother! Can't you read, you imbecile! Maybe it is time for a new Grand Maester," Steffon barked at the man. "Queen mother Rhaella Targaryen is dead, murdered in her childbed only moments after the birth of her daughter, Daenerys Targaryen."

Rhaegar was torn by this news. On the one hand, he was relieved that Senna was not the one who had died. But his mother is gone now… Murdered, only moments after giving birth… what monsters would do such a thing?

"And Queen Senna? Does the letter say anything about our current queen," Tywin demanded to know when Rhaegar said nothing.

Steffon sighed deeply, as he nodded. "Yes. Apparently, there had been an attack on the queen as well. But her guards could kill the assassin before he was able to do her harm. But the queen and the royal siblings have vanished from Dragonstone and have not been seen for a whole day before the letter had been sent."

"What do you mean they have not been seen?" Tywin barked. "This is our queen we are talking about. And the king's brother and sister. Such people don't just vanish into thin air."

"That's all. Nothing more in the letter," Steffon replied, his tone equally dark, "But here, have a look." He tossed the letter towards the Hand of the King, who took and read it very carefully.

But as Tywin read the letter, Rhaegar had already made up his mind. "Ready my ship. I will leave for Dragonstone as soon as possible." He ordered.

"Your grace, that would be most unwise," Tywin told him in his most patronizing voice. It was in moments like these, that the Lord of Casterly Rock saw himself in the role of the educator and not just as a vassal of his king.

"I will not abandon my family," the king told his council hotly, "I have already failed enough by sending them away while investigating the murder conspiracy here in King's Landing. Never again will I allow them to be out of my reach."

"What murder conspiracy?" Tywin demanded, a look of mock outrage on his face.

"Ah, drop the act, Tywin," Steffon said loudly, "We all knew something was amiss and we both knew that the queen's sudden departure had not been because of the plague."

The Hand of the King looked sourly at his friend, but refrained from commenting further on this topic, "But my point remains, you should not leave King's Landing at this time, your grace. The Seven alone know how many more would-be assassins are just waiting for you to leave the safety of the Red Keep."

"I cannot and I will not abandon my family," Rhaegar hissed angrily.

"And no one demands that you do, your grace," Steffon interjected, "But Lord Tywin is right. You should not leave. If it would soothe your mind, I volunteer to go to Dragonstone and bring your family back home."

"You have your duties as the master of coin, Lord Steffon. I can't demand from you to do what I have failed at."

"The treasury is filled to the brim and unless you suddenly have the urge to host a grand event like the tourney at your wedding, my short absence will not be noticed at all. And the queen knows and trusts me," Steffon assured him. "I swear to you that I will find your wife and siblings and bring them back safely. On my honor!"

Again Rhaegar felt torn. He knew that the timing was more than unfortunate. His presence in the capital was essential. But he also wanted to be with his family. Oh, how he already cursed his stupid decision to send them away. Now he would have no choice but to send the Lord of the Stormlands to do what he could not. Protect his family.

* * *

The Red Temple in Myr was a grand building, built by great architects and funded by foreign masters with endless pockets. It was a building meant to inspire awe in the hapless masses and fear in the enemies of the faith. Senna was never sure what she really felt about it.

Some of her earliest memories with her mother had been connected to this very building. Her mother had been a devoted servant and many who knew her, had claimed that her mother would have joined the Red Temple in Volantis, had she not been sent to Myr to marry the last living son of House Peverell.

The enormous braziers, large enough to burn the wood of a dozen trees at once, shone brightly to the left and right of the large entrance. The red stones of the building looked as dark as blood in the early morning light. It was a menacing sight… yet to Senna, it felt familiar and calming.

She had waited for Magister Mercor in the morning since the man had offered to accompany her here, but when he failed to show up, she relented and went on her own.

"Home at last," Thoros commented idly, as they approached the temple. "But the other priests won't believe how we got here. Well, I don't even know how we have really gotten here."

"And you better stop talking about that while we are here, Thoros," Senna ordered sternly. A lot of people had seen her do magic in these past few days and she knew that it would impossible to keep it a secret for long now. Her magic. The part of her that makes Senna Peverell more than just another pretty little noble lady.

"Never fear, milady, I will treat your secrets as if they were my own," Thoros promised, as he gestured vigorously.

She refrained from commenting further, as she began to nervously fiddle around with her hood. She pulled it further down, striving to hide her identity from the people around her. She wasn't afraid of them, never would she have to fear the people in Myr. But until she was absolutely sure that her family was safe, no one was allowed to know that they are in Myr.

Once inside, Senna saw the numerous faithful, as they had come for the first prayers in the morning. Chanting could be heard and in the many different corners of the large room. But all of it was just as she remembered it. Nothing had changed, even though she had not been here since she had been a girl of eight. Lady Melisandre had never urged her to visit the temple, much to Senna's confusion.

"Thoros, what are you doing here? Sober and fully dressed for once?" a priestess approached them, a young woman, olive skinned with long dark hair and black eyes. A rhoynish woman, one of many others in Myr.

"Marei! The last time I've seen you, you were no bigger than a dwarf," Thoros laughed, "But the frown is still the same."

"You've been sent to Westeros to convince the dragon king of our lord's glory, so what are you doing here?"

Senna watched as an unbearable grin grew on Thoros' face, as he answered the young priestess, "Oh well, that king got himself impaled on his own throne." He shrugged.

"Then they have a new king, yet you are here," Marei admonished him.

"Oh, you are right, of course. But I have someone far better with me," Thoros said, as he looked at Senna.

She knew what he wanted of her and she agreed that the moment was right. So she removed her hood and looked imperiously at the girl. Thoros grin grew even wider, as he felt triumphant.

"Your grace," Marei almost fell to her knees as she realized who Thoros had come with.

The whole temple was suddenly silent, as all the people looked towards the sudden commotion, only to mirror the priestess' actions when they saw the last daughter of House Peverell standing in their midst.

It was then, when someone approached, whom Senna knew quite well. Lady Melisandre emerged from among a large group of priests, looking more regal and powerful than any of them could ever hope to appear. But as she approached Senna, the stern look on her face melted away and revealed the kind and enigmatic mentor Senna had known for almost all her life.

"My dear child, I have expected your return to us. Welcome home," she said, as she pulled Senna into a tight embrace, a gesture that Senna reciprocated gladly.

"Lady Melisandre, you can't even begin how glad I am to see you again," Senna told the woman. "I have come to ask for your help."

"I knew this day would come, my dear. The Lord of Light has shown it to me, this very moment when you will have to stop pretending to be just what meets the eye."

Senna did not comment on this. She had not made the best experiences with any form of Divination, but looking into a raging fire sure sounds more appealing than searching for clues in the remains of a terrible tea…

"You are what you are and if you truly wish to fulfill your destiny, it is time for you to embrace your heritage. Only then the Lord of Light can truly help you," the priestess continued.

Senna sighed, "It is not divine guidance I seek, but men and women I can trust with my life," she said.

"And here you will find them. Devoted followers of our lord. Prove to them that you are indeed the lord's chosen and they will follow you into the darkest night and back," Melisandre advised her, "Show them what you are capable of."

Then the priestess turned away from her and towards the crowd, which had gathered behind them. She was sure that their number had grown when she had not been looking. More people had come to the temple, as soon as word had spread that she was here.

"Brothers and sisters, the day I have prepared you all for has come. Sooner than expected, but it is our lord's will, so we will do as he bids us. Here before us stands Senna of House Peverell. A daughter of Myr and now the queen of the Seven Kingdoms. She is the phoenix of Myr, whom our lord has chosen to bring his light to the faithless masses in the west. She is the burning firebird "

Senna wasn't sure what she was supposed to do now? Did they expect her to say anything? Do anything? Whatever it was, countless eyes were now focused on her. She was used to being the center of all attention. She remembered how she had been seen as the savior in her first life, how people had revered her in one moment, only to revile her in the next. But these people… she wasn't sure what Lady Melisandre had done with them in these past few months, but the way they looked at her, it was almost as if they saw her as their messiah. Their eyes were desperately searching for any sign of divine power...

So she shrugged off her dark cloak, revealing her red and gold dress. She hadn't thought much about it when her servants had chosen this dress for her, but now she realized that it was almost the same color as the robes of the priests… how fitting. But this alone would not awe anyone. So she grabbed her staff, which she had shrunk and hidden in the folds of her dress. A small wave of magic and it extended to its full size. And almost as if she had planned it, Fawkes appeared, in all his fiery glory. Her very own firebird, born from a ball of flames, right before the eyes of the faithful men and women in the temple. His timing was utterly perfect, though she did not know why the phoenix had decided to appear now. Still, she was thankful that he had. When she extended her arm, the bird landed on it and nuzzled her cheek with his head.

"All hail Senna Peverell, the Phoenix Queen of Myr," Lady Melisandre announced loudly. "She who will bring the light to the darkness."

And the crowd reacted accordingly. All of them fell to their knees, heads bowed before her. Soon, only Senna, Melisandre, and Thoros were left standing, as all the others were on the ground, kneeling, chanting, and singing her praise.

"And now you have an army," Thoros muttered behind her. "Phoenix Queen… ho ho, those stuck up Septons will love you even more now."

She only managed a thin-lipped smile, as her eyes roamed through the room. Thoros was right. On both accounts. As long as these people continue to believe that she is a chosen of the Lord of Light, they will brave all the hells she would unleash upon them. But it wouldn't do her any good in the Seven Kingdoms, where the powerful were wary of her because of her origin. Yet she was sure about one thing, if this would keep her family safe, she will gladly face whatever opposition she would have at home…

* * *

"Just what has happened? Where is she?" Mina Tyrell asked as she paced around the room.

Except for her, only Ser Jonothor and Prince Lewyn had remained in the keep on Dragonstone. The queen, the royal children and those Dornish followers of her, all gone. And no one could tell her where and how… The queen had left her behind, that was a bitter truth, one that she had not been prepared to face.

"No one knows," Ser Jonothor replied, "All of them have vanished as if they were birds and just flew out of an open window."

"No one saw them leave, no one can find them in the keep or on this island," Prince Lewyn added. The Dornish Prince was quite distraught, the queen's protection had been his assigned duty. Not one but two kings had tasked him with this, but here he was, without her… and his niece and nephew had disappeared together with the queen… His sister would surely curse him from her grave, should she find out about this.

"No ships have come and gone since the attack on Queen Senna and the murder of the queen mother," Ser Jonothor said, "They have to be somewhere here on this island."

"Maybe not," Mina said, though she halted when her own mind tried to convince her that this could not be, "The queen… you have seen those powers… this red light and how it has tortured the assassin. Maybe there are other powers as well..."

"Impossible. It must have been a trick, the sunlight reflected from some piece of metal or something," Ser Jonothor insisted. He obviously had just as much trouble coming to terms with what he had seen as Mina.

But Prince Lewyn knew differently. He remembered clearly how an earlier altercation between Queen Senna and her father-in-law had ended. How she had seemingly thrown him from one end of the room to the other, shattering half the furniture in the process. Lord Commander Hightower had kept a close eye on her ever since, distrustful of what she was really capable of. It was pretty obvious that she was anything but a usual lady.

"But in the unlikely case that it was not the light..." Mina tried again.

"It was the sunlight," the knight insisted more vehemently.

"But if not, then that would mean that the queen is not just a simple woman, but much, much more," Mina finished her thoughts. "Just think about it. She is not just any noble lady, but the last of an ancient and revered Valyrian house. One that is just as old as House Targaryen, if not older… what if… what if those stories the old women tell the children about Valyria are true..."

"What?" Ser Jonothor laughed, "The Valyrians ruled with fire and blood, just like the Targaryens still do today. Their dragons burned half the world to ash so they could rule. Those flimsy little tales about all powerful men and women and their prophetic dreams and weird wonders are nothing but false tails to usurp a claim at godhood for the dragonlords. Stories told to increase the fear of the dragonlords to keep the slaves from rebelling against their unjust rule."

"Yet for over a century the Targaryens have tried and failed to hatch a dragon. Their blood had been thinned by marrying into other houses and countless generations of incest..."

"Careful girl. Such disrespect to the royal family can quickly loose you your tongue," the knight warned her.

"Of course," Mina said bitterly. Never say the truth about the royal family, unless it is flattering… "But what I mean is that Queen Senna might very well be the last true Valyrian with all their strange powers and knowledge. Just imagine what this could mean for all of us!"

"It changes nothing," Prince Lewyn breathed. He had been silent so far, as his own mind had come up with the worst possible outcomes for this all. But he knew he had to stop this girl's wild imagination now before she would tell the wrong people about things she does clearly not understand. "She is our queen and you will not talk about this with anyone."

"But..." Mina tried to protest, a distraught look on her face.

"No more. We will continue our search for the queen and the royal children. Pray that nothing has happened to them or the king will have our heads," the Dornish Prince said before he pushed past the girl and left the room.

* * *

Senna felt tired, as she had finally found her way back to her estate. The news about her presence had spread much faster than even she would have anticipated and by the time she had left the temple, a large crowd had gathered outside. The people wanted to see their lady. It had been a little more than a year since she had left for the Seven Kingdoms.

There was no doubt that soon enough the news of her presence in Myr would even reach King's Landing and Rhaegar… she tried no to think about her husband these days. Of course, she was worried. The people who had attacked her, who have killed Rhaella, they may just as well be after him. But Rhaegar had some of the best knights in the Seven Kingdoms to guard him. And a letter about the threat had to suffice for now… She would see him again, soon. She promised herself that it would be soon.

But for now, she had other things to deal with. After the struggle to get back home, only guarded by Thoros and a dozen faithful warriors from the temple, all she could think about was a bath and some sleep. She chuckled, amused about her own priorities. It wasn't even noon yet and she wanted nothing more than to go back to bed, to crawl beneath the warm blankets and forget about the world. At least for some more blissful hours. Dealing with the sudden worship by the followers of the Red Temple had been taxing, but she was glad that she had Lady Melisandre with her to help her.

"Sister!"

Viserys had been waiting for her return, dressed in fine clothes of Myrish fashion and with the wide curious eyes that only an innocent young child could have. Her heart ached as she looked at him. She had yet to tell him that his mother was dead and she had no idea how she was supposed to explain to a three-year-old boy that his mother had been murdered… He had cried for a whole week after his father had died, but his mother had managed to calm him down. But now...

"Viserys, shouldn't you be with your tutor," she chided him lightly. One of her own teachers, a well-educated slave, who had served her family for decades, had taken over the boys education for now. He would do far better than any of those fraudulent Maesters and Senna was still debating whether she should bring the teacher back to King's Landing with her. For Viserys and Daenerys… and her own children, should the man live long enough. He was very old already.

"History is boring..." the boy lamented.

Senna smiled as she heard him, as she remembered her first life. Binns, the ghost who put whole classes to sleep within moments, she remembered him well. Only in her second life, she had learned the value of those history lessons. Events always repeat themselves. Learn from the past, to influence the future…

"Are not interested in learning about this city and its long and proud history?" She asked him, mock pouting, to fake disappointment.

It worked just as intended, "No. No. But the old man is boring! You tell me the history of your city," he insisted.

"It isn't my city, Viserys," she told him with a laugh, "Myr is ruled by a convocation of Magisters. Old and wise men, who know best about what the people need."

"How very nice of you to speak so highly of us!"

She turned around and saw Magister Mercor, together with Magister Varghan standing at the entrance of the house, a knowing look on their faces, as they approached her and the young prince.

Senna approached Varghan first and hugged the man happily. He had left King's Landing about a month after her wedding, together with his children. She had missed them all dearly. But when she came back to get help, she had not dared to approach Varghan. His son had been hurt badly and she did not want to drag his family into whatever madness she had landed herself in. But he obviously wouldn't stay away, no matter what she did.

"So this is the young prince," Magister Mercor said, as he looked at Viserys.

The boy showed no fear and looked back with all the defiance a three-year-old could muster. Senna laughed, as she got back to Viserys and picked him up. The boy looked pleased to be nearly on the same level as the men, thanks to Senna carrying him.

"Magisters, may I introduce. This is Viserys of House Targaryen, son of the late King Aerys Targaryen and currently first in line for the Iron Throne," she told the men. Viserys looked smugly at them. Maybe it was because of the respectful introduction or due to the fact that he now was the only 'man' close to his sister. He would likely not be very forthcoming should she ask him. But it all only mad him more adorable.

"We are very honored your highness," Magister Mercor indulged the boy and even made a brief bow. "We will only have need of the queen for some short moments, then she will be all yours again."

Viserys huffed and would have likely told them to leave, had Senna not shot him a chastising look. "Fine," the young boy relented. "But only for a few moments."

"Enough, Viserys," Senna told the boy, as she sat him back down on the ground. "Please return to your tutor. If you behave, I will tell you a story later."

The boy looked unconvinced, but a gentle shove from the queen was enough to make him leave the room. She was glad that he wasn't stubborn about this. She had seen some of his tantrums and they weren't pretty. But strangely enough, he never, not even once, tried such a thing with his mother or her. But Rhaegar… he had suffered his brother's temper more than once.

"What a possessive little boy," Magister Mercor commented with a chuckle, "Be careful when he gets older. He might get jealous of your husband."

"He has a new sister to dote on. Once she does anything but eat, and sleep, he will soon forget about me," she lamented. "But come, let's get more comfortable. Some wine would be good, no?"

They walked out onto the terrace, to enjoy the warm midday sun. It was one of those things Senna missed the most in her new homeland. Even in Winter, the temperatures in Myr were always pleasant. Not like Dragonstone, where the cold winter wind feels like a thousand knives that try to cut the flesh from your bones… which reminded her...

"Magister Mercor, I have a request to make," she said.

"Anything my dear. Just ask," the old man assured her.

"My people on the island of Dragonstone are suffering from the harsh winter. Food is scarce and even the means to make a warming fire are getting hard to come by. I need several ships filled with food, wood, and warm pelts to be sent to the island of Dragonstone. I will pay it all from my personal vaults," she told the man.

Mercor nodded. It wasn't such a big request and easily doable. Myr is a trade city and almost everything she had asked for could be acquired within a day or less.

"I will see it done," Magister Varghan promised, much to her relief.

Despite all that had happened, the vast majority of the people on the island deserved her care and compassion as their queen and she wouldn't see them suffer for the deeds of a few.

"There is another matter," Magister Mercor began, "Your recent visit to the Red Temple went well, I suppose."

"I have a small army of personal guards now, thanks to Lady Melisandre's hard work," Senna told them. "A hundred men, ready to fight and die for their Phoenix Queen."

Oh, how she already hated that new moniker. As if she had not suffered enough from her monikers in her first life as Harry. At least as a demigod they only called her one thing. Traitor. Not the best thing to being called, but better than boy-who-just-wouldn't-die or now the Phoenix Queen… At least the people had a viable reason to call her that. This was Death's fault. He always claims that he has little influence on the events in each world, but either she has the worst luck ever or he does far more than just watching her struggle.

"With your… abilities, many more of those zealots will follow you. Give it some time and you will have a real army," Mercor told her, "Which leads us to another problem that needs to be addressed now. You have men, but you need to arm them properly. Most of them may be experienced fighters, but the personal guard of a queen needs to be impressive. Both in skill and in looks."

"No worries," Senna assured him, "I have enough weapons and armors stored in the vaults. Remnants of the time when my family had a household guard numbering in the thousands. It will do nicely now."

"But will it this guard be enough? They tried to kill you. They succeeded in killing the former queen. Maybe it would be better for you to stay here in Myr and let others deal with this threat," Varghan was obviously concerned for her safety, which only endeared him more to her.

But this was her fight. Lady Melisandre was right, the time to hide what she really is has passed. This world would see what a true-born Valyrian Witch is capable of. She was done hiding in the shadows. They had taken her by surprise with this attack. Had she known about this plot, she would have spent every waking moment hunting those who would hurt her family down. She would do so now. And this time, she would show them no quarter. For too long had she tried to be more like Harry, maybe it was time to remember why Cassandra had been one of the most feared and reviled demigods in history.

* * *

It was a dreadful sight, the rundown village outside of the capital's gates. Tens of thousands of poor and displaced, suffering in silence, just outside of the glorious city from where their world was ruled. The hovels they lived in were close to collapsing and what they called paths were little more than rivers of mud. It was a terrible sight.

Tygett Lannister, second oldest brother of Lord Tywin Lannister, looked upon this city of the poor with distaste. His brother had tasked him with putting an end to this place, but Tygett barely dared to pass through this place. With all the diseases and violent peasants, death was a likely reward for trying to set foot into this muddy dump.

At least he wasn't alone. He had two dozen Lannister guardsmen and a hundred Gold Cloaks with him. It reassured him somewhat. But still, this was an honorless and thankless job and he cursed his timing. He had come to King's Landing to speak to his brother about the arranged marriage to Darlessa Marbrand. Tywin had arranged this match behind Tygett's back and though he knew that nothing would change his brother's mind, he still wanted to yell at him for it. Just for good measure. But instead of a liberating temper tantrum, he had been tasked with this god-forsaken duty. Now he had two reasons to yell at his brother.

"By command of his majesty King Rhaegar Targaryen, this illegal settlement has to be abandoned and all its denizens are hereby evicted from the capital and the surrounding lands," Tygett yelled loudly. But the people around him simply ignored him.

"Leave people or else we will make you leave!" He yelled again. But once more the people paid him no heed. Maybe they hoped that he would just leave or maybe they were simply too sick and tired to follow this demand. He did not know, nor did he care. He had been tasked with getting rid of these people and he would do so. A little scare would surely make them leave.

"Men, to arms," he ordered.

This time, the people reacted, as the more than one hundred armed men drew their swords. There were fear and uncertainty in their faces and Tygett felt miserable for forcing these half dead people away from the shoddy homes they had built themselves to survive the winter. The way they looked, maybe one out of ten would survive in the wilds, maybe even less. But his brother's command was as good as the king's and his brother had ordered him to put an end to this growing hive of poverty and disease.

"Forward, drive them from their homes and burn this infernal place to the ground," he ordered loudly.

As his men marched, the poor people fled in sheer terror. Carts got knocked over and tools lay discarded on the ground. Those too slow or too small got knocked over and trampled, as the witless mass of beggars and displaced farmers began to ran for their lives. Tygett was barely able to look at it after he saw a child, surely no older than two or free, face down in the mud, unmoving as the fleeing stepped on it again and again…

"Lannister! Get down off your fucking horse and fight me, but don't send your fancy guardsmen to slaughter these peasants," a man suddenly appeared between the running peasants. He was clad in armor with shield and sword in hands. The shield was yellow with a winged black heart, a sigil that Tygett could not recall seeing before. But from the looks, the man was likely a knight or at least he pretended to be.

When his men quickly surrounded the unknown knight, but Tygett would not let them stop them. "Leave him be. He is mine," Tygett ordered.

He quickly dismounted from his horse and drew his own sword. He smirked as enjoyed this moment. A chance to vent some steam before he would face his brother once more.

"Yes, try to win back your honor, you fucking worm," the strange knight yelled at him, as he banged his sword against his shield. "Fight me!"

"Don't complain when you lack a limb after this," Tygett retorted cockily before he charged towards his foe.

They traded blows, to gauge the skill of the other before Tygett quickly tried to overpower the man. The unknown knight's wooden shield chipped and splintered under the relentless assault, as Tygett poured all his anger and frustration into his blows. But for every blow he received, he returned the fierceness in equal measure.

"You fight like a fucking coward, hiding behind your shield," Tygett mocked, as he breathed heavily.

"Strong words from a man who uses armed men to destroy the lives of indigent peasants," the knight shot back.

Tygett only laughed, as he swung his sword high and hit the shield once more, this time with all the might he could muster. The blade struck deep and left a large gash in the shield, but to Tygett's horror, it was stuck and with a strong pull from the knight, he suddenly found himself disarmed and cornered.

"A sword," he yelled at his men. And before his opponent could interfere, Tygett had ran towards one of his guards and wrestled the sword from the man's grip.

So he continued his relentless assault until the shield was reduced to a pile of splinters on the ground. But even without his protection, the other knight proved to be more than he had expected. He was skilled, highly so. But he lacked the refinement of men trained by a true swordmaster.

"You are good, Lannister. All that gold you shit has been put to good use," the knight muttered. "But it won't save your life today!"

"Just give up and die already," Tygett said, as he swung his sword again. And this time, it found its intended mark and cut deeply into the knight's upper arm. "This is over!"

"Drop your sword and step back from him," another man yelled.

Tygett cursed, as he saw several men standing on the roofs and between the hovels, all with bows in their head, aiming at him. He yelled in frustration, at his men, who had been so preoccupied with watching his fight, that they did not even see these armed men coming.

"This is not over, Lannister! The people will remember your actions here," the knight said before turned away to leave.

But Tygett's men stopped him. "Let him go!" One of the outlaws yelled. Only when an angry Tygett gave them the order to comply, they allowed the knight to leave.

"What is your name," Tygett yelled at the knight.

The man stopped for a moment and turned around to answer, "I will tell you moments before I kill you, so you can tell the gods who sent you," he answered before he quickly ran away.

Tygett stayed behind, furious and tired. He threw his sword on the ground in a fit of rage and returned to his horse. His men could finish their grizzly duty without him. He was in dire need of as much alcohol as his purse could afford him.

* * *

Rhaegar felt weary, dead on his feet even, as he finally decided to end the day and retire for the night. The days as the king had become far longer than he would have ever expected and without his family to lighten his mood, his thoughts had turned darker on a regular basis. Or maybe it was just the threat to his family that fueled his anger.

His mother's murder had numbed him to the world for days. The disappearance of Senna and his siblings had only worsened things even more. He had to trust Lord Steffon, that the man would find his family and return them to him.

"I will make another round, check on the guards in all the corridors and all that," Arthur told him, as they had reached the door to his chambers. "Rest easy for tonight, nothing will happen, my friend."

"Do whatever you want, just let me sleep. Seven Hells, I would kill for just one night of undisturbed sleep," Rhaegar muttered.

Arthur laughed, "One whole night? Now you are getting greedy."

"Greed is the king's prerogative," Rhaegar shot back. Both of them chuckled before Arthur bid him good night and left him in the care of his other guards.

Rhaegar sighed deeply, as soon as the doors of his chambers were closed behind him. At least here, in his chambers, he was undisturbed. Though he also felt alone. Who could have expected that he would grow accustomed to Senna's presence so quickly… ever since he had sent her away, these chambers had become empty and lifeless. The rooms were still the same, but it was also as if all light had left them…

But something was different. He didn't know why, but he felt different. Nothing had changed, but still, just being here felt… strange…

He proceeded cautiously, his hand on the pommel of the sword he carried with him at all times now. Someone was here, he was sure of it. He had half a mind to call for the guards, who were stationed just outside of the door. But he did not. Instead, he walked further into his bedroom, which was dimly lit by several candles his servants had left for him earlier this evening.

He saw a shadow, sitting on his bed, waiting for him. He pulled his sword, slowly and as silently as possible, before he approached further. If this was just another one of those assassins, he would vent all his frustrations on this traitor.

"It was about time for you to return," the shadow said.

Rhaegar almost dropped his sword, when he recognized the voice. But this couldn't be… of course, it could. Senna had proven before, that she could travel great distances in a matter of moments…

"Senna?"

It was really her. When she stood up from the bed to face him, he could see her clearly before him. Just as beautiful as the day he had sent her away. But there was a change. A fierceness in her eyes and her posture, that had not been there before.

"Rhaegar," she smiled at him.

But before she could say any more, he had dropped his sword and pulled her into his arms. Their lips met in a kiss filled with longing, with the feverish desire for each other. She responded to his boldness just as eagerly and moaned lightly into the kiss when his hands began to wander. Only when the need to breath became too much, their lips parted again.

"I can hardly believe it. But you are here. You are real and in my arms."

She looked so perfect to him, it was almost like a dream. Or maybe this was a dream. At least it would have been a good one. But no, she was real and he was awake. And though there was this hardness in her looks now, she was still so much more than he deserves...

"I just couldn't stay away, Rhaegar. I had to know that you are alright. After all, that had happened, after Rhaella's death, I had to see you with my own eyes," she told him somberly, as her hand caressed his face. There was great worry in her eyes ad

"You can't even begin to imagine how much I have yearned for you," Rhaegar said, "Not knowing where you are was even greater torture than the knowledge that my mother had been murdered. Some of the lords are sure that are dead as well..."

"One thing they don't know about me is that death and I have a rather… ambiguous relationship," she laughed. "It takes more than some assassins to get rid of me. Many have tried, no one has succeeded. You will never have to fear for me, I promise you that."

"Still… where have you been? Where are Viserys and my sister?"

"Daenerys. Her name is Daenerys. And they are safe. I have brought them to the only place where I can trust the people absolutely."

"Myr..." he realized that the answer had been so utterly obvious. Yet no one had ever entertained the idea that she might have gone home. He laughed lightly, as he realized his folly.

"Myr, yes. My people are utterly loyal and with the help of the Magisters I can assure the safety of both Viserys and Daenerys," she told him. "And your brother loves Myr. He is so adorable when he stands on the high terrace and looks down on the city and the harbor, asking about all the different things he can see."

A forlorn look passed over Rhaegar's face when he heard her. She can trust the people in Myr with her life, yet here in the Seven Kingdoms, in his kingdom, the people she was supposed to trust had tried to kill her… it was his failure as their king… and his failure as her husband. He tried to protect her, unsuspecting that there are far more people involved in this conspiracy than he would have even considered in his worst nightmares...

"Hey, it is not your fault," Senna told him. He looked away from her, but she would have none of this. She placed her hands on his cheeks and gently forced him to look at her again. "It is not your fault." She repeated once more before she kissed him briefly. "No one could have expected this. Had I known..."

"I knew..." he told her, his voice halting. "I knew that there had been a plot to kill you. I knew that there is a cult that only exists to see you dead… it is why I sent you away. The plague was only a pretense..." It wasn't easy to tell her, but he was well aware that he shouldn't… no, he mustn't hide this from her any longer. It would only damage their relationship more if he did that.

She suddenly let go of him and took a step back, a shocked look on her face. Her eyes were wide in disbelief. She mumbled something, but he could not understand what it was. But he a feeling that it wasn't anything good.

"Senna..."

"You foolish, foolish man. Why? Why didn't you tell me? I would have been more careful. I would have taken precautions. Your mother would still be alive!" She told him hotly. "But misplaced pride kept you from trusting me!"

"I wanted to protect you," he told her. But even he had realized that in the end, his attempts had backfired in the worst possible way.

"And what a splendid job you have done," she shot back sarcastically. "You have no idea how much you have destroyed this way. I… I need to think about this… about everything.

"Senna, don't make a mistake," Rhaegar warned her.

She only chuckled humorlessly in response. "I won't," she shook her head, a sad look on her face, "I will return in a month… with the people I can trust. Don't come looking for me until then. I… I need time."

And before he could respond, she was gone once more. A cracking sound was all that could be heard before he was alone in his room once more. He wasn't sure how much damage his decision had done to his feeble relationship with his wife, but no matter what, he would make it up to her. He had already paid an enormous price for his mistake. He had lost his mother, he wouldn't lose his wife as well…


	13. The Queen's heart

Darkness… once more she found herself in a place devoid of any light. She created a small ball of light, that floated near her, to shed some light, but the darkness seemed to swallow every last ray of light after only a few feet. But it was better than nothing, as she began exploring this place.

Was this another dream? A nightmare, more likely. But why this place again? Why this darkness? Was this some twisted vision of the past? Her family had members with prophetic dreams before, but she had never been any good at predicting anything. Not in this life, not in any prior. So she really hoped that this was nothing more than a nightmare.

She was in a ruin, at least she could see that much. Crumbling walls surrounded her and on the ground she saw some piece of cloth.

She knelt down and picked it up, to examine it. It was a part of a torn tapestry. A true piece of art, finely stitched and made of expensive silks as it seems. Not many would use such expensive materials for a simple tapestry… She realized what was depicted on it. The rising phoenix, the sigil she had chosen for her house…

She let go of the ruined tapestry, slightly disturbed by it, and decided to continue on her way through the ruin.

It had been a large building, a keep maybe or a manse. For some moments she wondered whether this was some twisted version of her estate in Myr, but then she realized that the layout did not fit. The rooms or what was left of them at least did not fit with her home. But what else could this place be?

Soon enough she reached another gigantic room and the light of her spell couldn't even reach any of the walls any longer. It was a hall or a ballroom of sorts. The ruined furniture was obviously expensive and some of it bore the same sigil as the tapestry. But others were decorated with the three-headed dragon of House Targaryen…

Was this the Red Keep? No, it couldn't be. The whole building looked different, the architecture, or at least what she had seen of it did not fit with the Red Keep either… Where was she?

"Are you satisfied?"

A disembodied voice echoed through the room, followed by a dark cackle. Senna frowned, as she hated the fact that someone was clearly talking to her, without showing the simple courtesy of revealing himself to her.

"Who are you?" She demanded.

"Are you satisfied?" The voice asked again.

"Satisfied with what?" She asked angrily.

"A thousand, thousand lives wasted. Whole generations of men, lead to their deaths for the folly of their queen. So tell me, are you satisfied?"

All of this made no sense to her. She had lead no one to their deaths. She had only just begun the early stages of recruiting an army of her own, to protect her family from harm. So what was this about?

"I haven't lead anyone to their deaths. You are mistaken, coward. Now come out and show me your face!"

"As you wish," the voice conceded.

Suddenly the room was ablaze with light. She was blinded for a moment before she realized that she was now surrounded by fire. The whole building was burning and crumbling around her. And then she saw him. Of all the dead, he had to be the one to haunt her dreams again. Aerys…

"You!"

"I won't be so easy to banish," Aerys told her. "Your actions have consequences. You murdered me and to pay for your crime my wife had to die."

"She was murdered by scum like you," Senna shot back.

But Aerys ignored her. "Summerhall… you are not worthy of this place. You will only destroy it once and for all!" His voice was full of bitterness and loathing. "You will be the end of House Targaryen. I should have had you eviscerated on the day you set foot in my city."

"But now you are dead and you will never harm another person again," Senna retorted smugly. Of all the people she had killed in this and her previous lives, Aerys was the one she would never regret killing.

Suddenly the dead man stood directly in front of her, his face lass than a hand's width away. He stared at her, with his dull, dead eyes staring into her own.

"Darkness is coming. And I will have my revenge!"

Fed up with his presence, she focused her magic in her hands and banished him away from her. He was pushed back, but not as far as she had hoped.

"Begone you vile specter. You will no longer taint your family and you will never again haunt my dreams." An idea formed in her head and a cruel smirk spread on her lips. "I remember you like fire. Well, choke on this! Fiendfyre!"

The magical flames formed an enormous phoenix, as they rushed for the fallen king. Within moments the flames had engulfed Aerys and began to devour his body. But the man did not scream, he did not even move a muscle. He just stood there and stared at her, a maniacal gleam in his eyes.

"I will have my revenge! You and all the other traitors will suffer for this!" He chuckled before the flames had finally reduced him to a small pile of ash on the ground. And with him, the flames that had begun to devour the building also ceased to exist.

But now Senna stood once more in utter darkness, breathing hard, as she tried almost desperately to make some sense of this… dream… vision… whatever this is. It ended soon thereafter when someone shook her awake in the real world.

* * *

"Your grace!"

Senna groaned lightly, as she slowly woke up from her fitful dream. She felt disoriented for a moment before she looked for whoever had woken her up. It had been Elia, who now stood only a feet to her left, a worried look on her face.

"Yes, Elia, what is it?" Senna asked sleepily. "Has anything happened?"

"The princess, your grace," Elia began.

But she had no chance to get any further, as Senna jumped out of her bed and almost ran towards the room that had been prepared for Daenerys. A thousand thoughts rushed through her head, as her worry reached new heights. Had someone come to kill her as well? The next of these assassins would not die as easily as the last one if that was the case. But how had they found them here? And how had they managed to infiltrate her estate? Her men were absolutely loyal. They would never betray her… unless the killer was someone else. Doubt beset her and she tensed even more as she considered all options.

Yet all her tension left her body as quickly as it had come when she entered the room that housed the babe. Two guards and the baby's wetnurse were there as well, all of them close to the exit, far away from the crib. They were afraid and rightfully so.

"Draco!" Senna chided loudly, as she saw her dragon lie in the half destroyed crib, curled around the baby.

The dragon growled at her, though it sounded more like a complaint about the noise, rather than an act of aggression. The guards tensed none the less and drew their swords.

"Put those swords away. Wouldn't do you any good against a dragon in such a situation," Senna barked at them, as she approached the dragon.

Curiously enough, Daenerys slept soundly, despite the ruckus and the half-grown dragon next to her. The baby even seemed to snuggle against his warm scales. It was an adorable sight, one that she would surely remember for a long time, but she also knew that the dragon's affection for the baby was rather dangerous. Gentle as he was now, Draco was already large enough to crush Daenerys with one wrong move.

Draco growled again, when she picked Daenerys up but did not make any move to stop her, "Leave her be, you overgrown lizard. You have your own room, just look at the mess you've made. No sheep for you today." She chided the beast. The dragon growled in displeasure, as he stood up and left the room through the large windows on the other side.

"Your grace, we tried to get the baby, but the dragon wouldn't let us. He even breathed fire at the guards..." Elia said as she had finally reached the room, only to see Senna with the baby in her arms and the dragon gone.

"It is alright, Elia. Draco wouldn't hurt Daenerys. He is just curious. More than usual," Senna told her. But she knew that something had to be done about this or else the dragon would do this again.

Daenerys still slept, though Senna was sure it wouldn't be that way for much longer. Soon she would cry for food, so she handed the baby over to the wetnurse, who would take care of her.

"Don't worry, I will make sure that Draco does not try this again," she assured the wet-nurse before she left the room, followed by Elia.

"Any news about the preparations for our departure, Elia?" She asked, as they slowly walked away from the nursery.

"Not yet, your grace. Weapons and armors have been distributed to your new guardsmen and the Red Priest is trying to make them act like a proper Queensguard. But still, this will all..." She stopped with a subdued look on her face.

"Go on. Speak freely, Elia. I want your counsel and I need a friend who will not shy away from inconvenient truths," Senna told her softly.

"Your grace… Senna," Elia said cautiously, "Do you really think that this is a good idea? A drunken Red Priest among your guards is one thing, but a hundred faithful of the red god, armed and inspired by their belief that you are a chosen servant of their god. This is madness."

Senna sighed. She knew that all of this was rather… bothersome. She had never wanted to be anyone's savior or messiah again. She just desires to live a normal life, but again she has landed in such a predicament when countless people praise her as their salvation… This was almost like in her first life, only this time she was in control and not under the thumb of some old manipulator. But still, this was a bad situation to be in, no doubt about that.

"I know what you mean, but I need loyal men and no one is more loyal than a fanatic who believes you are the tool of his god," Senna argued.

Elia, though, looked torn. "Yes, but this will cause a lot of trouble. The High Septon will not watch this in silence."

Senna scoffed when she heard this, "The man never liked me, to begin with. Didn't like it when I refused to accept him as my highest religious authority. Such a deluded man." She shook her head is exasperation, "He will have no authority over me or those under my protection. In the end, he is only a servant of the crown, not the other way round. Never the other way round."

Elia looked thoughtful, as they continued on their way. Senna knew that her friend was somewhat worried about changing too much too soon. Bringing so many armed followers of the Red God, that was something no one had dared before and it would cause religious turmoil.

"But what to do about the children..." Senna sighed. "I would love nothing more than to leave them here in Myr, where they are likely safer, but… but I can't do that to Rhaegar. No matter how angry I am with him at the moment, I can't separate him from his siblings..." Not to mention that the children would not like being separated from their family either. Viserys had just lost his mother, barely a year after his father's death. He was clingy now and wouldn't react well to isolation. She couldn't fault the three-year-old boy for that.

"No matter where they are, they will be in danger," Elia told her.

"Exactly," Senna didn't like it, but Elia was right. Even here, their enemies would sooner or later try something. "I will have to obliterate all possible dangers in the Seven Kingdoms then..."

Elia looked at bit disturbed at her queen when she heard the harsh coldness in her statement. Senna meant it. She would obliterate all those who would threaten her family. And the way she looked, Senna was sure that Elia could already guess that she has more than just a weird ability to travel great distances in a mater of moments.

* * *

Rhaegar was livid. No, he was far past this feeling at the very moment. He was well aware that he had been… distracted with his hunt for the assassins, but that did not mean that he was so removed from the day to day ruling of the realm, that he would just tolerate every single decision made in his name by his council.

He couldn't believe what he had heard when he had been informed about Lord Tywin's actions to solve the refuge problem outside of the city gates. The brutality, the injustice of it all…

"Your grace, how may I be of service today," Tywin said, as the king entered his chambers in the Tower of the Hand.

Rhaegar glared at the man, as Tywin had not even looked up once from the report he had been reading and even his voice was more mild annoyance than respectful indifference.

"Explain one thing to me, Lord Tywin. Who rules this realm?" Rhaegar asked him heatedly.

"You are the king," the lord answered, as he looked at his king in slight confusion.

"Then explain to me why you deemed it a sound action to send soldiers against a settlement of impoverished and dispossessed peasants? And in my name no less!"

"As we have discussed in one of our council meetings, the illegal settlement outside of the city walls has become a breeding ground for diseases, criminals and prostitution. Their presence had become a burden to travelers and merchants, so they had to go," Tywin replied coldly, "I have merely done what was necessary, seeing as your grace had been too preoccupied with your absentee wife."

The answer and reproach were so blunt that Rhaegar was speechless for some long moments. He knew that he should have spent more time ruling his realm, but protecting his family was just as important.

"Never make such decisions without consulting me. Never!" Rhaegar ordered, his voice dark and foreboding. "I am the king and I will not allow that my soldiers take up arms against the smallfolk."

"If that is your wish, your grace," Tywin replied. But the lord looked far from pleased. "But please remember, you have a council for a reason. You have men to advise you and sometimes we know best what to do." The lord sounded as if he was chiding a misbehaving child and Rhaegar was only moments away from blowing up. But he calmed himself, knowing that even as king, he had to act rationally.

So Rhaegar did not comment on this audacious exclamation, instead, he stormed off, after all, had been said. Tywin Lannister may be the best Hand a king can have, but bit by bit the king began to understand just why his father had begun to distrust this man.

He stormed through the halls of the Red Keep, on his way back to his solar, his mood even worse than it had been before. He must have been a frightening sight indeed. Most of the servants quickly hid when they saw the dark expression on his face. Only when he had reached the calming sanctity of his own rooms, he regained his composure.

"That could have gone better," he said after a long weary sigh. "I can't allow myself to show any weakness before this man or he will steal my throne while I'm sitting on it."

"Well, the Lannisters have always been an ambitious bunch of gold shitting bastards. Makes one wish that Aegon had aimed better and ended their line along with the Gardner kings," Arthur jested.

But this was one of those days, that Rhaegar really rued his family's decision or maybe it was more the inability to rid themselves of one of their most dangerous vassals. There had been enough chances, enough rebellions where the Lannisters had chosen a different side. Now he had to deal with them… and how tiring it was. But as king, that was something that he should never say out loud.

"But now they are more dangerous than ever," Arthur continued. "Removing the Lannister lord from your council would violate your agreement with him. And that would also anger his friends, or friend, much rather his one friend. His only friend, who so happens to be the Lord of Stormlands."

"Don't remind me. Lord Steffon may be honorable and all, but I wouldn't count on him when push comes to shove," Rhaegar said.

He knew that Tywin Lannister was playing a dangerous game here. One that had begun in the waning years of Aerys Targaryen's reign. The great lords of Westeros had long tried to increase their power, preferably by turning the royal family into little more than figureheads. And Tywin Lannister had an easy time finding allies, with Mad Aerys on the throne. Aerys' death had put an end to that… momentarily. He would have to be careful or else he might give the discontent lords a new reason to unite against him.

"Well then, why don't you try on winning over the others on your council then. That Tyrell boy seems eager enough to please you. A few nice words, some fancy but useless titles and he will be all yours," Arthur said with a laugh.

Rhaegar only sighed, though, "I would rather leave this to Senna. She already has one of the Tyrell sisters among her ladies, surely she can do more to secure their loyalty." If only she was back already. Not knowing her current feelings concerning him and their marriage was just as maddening as the games with the impudent lords. Only three more weeks and she would return. He trusts her to keep her word on that. She wasn't one to run and hide.

"Same goes for Dorne," Arthur said.

"So that leaves us with the Vale, the Riverlands, and the North," Rhaegar sighed. Only one of the three was represented on his council. Lord Jon Arryn, the current lord of the Vale and his master of laws. But the old lord had been sick for some time now and the Maester wasn't sure for how much longer he would live.

"We will have to be quick about this," the king said, "I have to find a way to turn the Arryn's to my side then." Pity he had no idea how…

A knock on the door of his solar shook him from his musings and with it, his annoyance returned again. He really did not want to see anyone at the moment. He had plans to make, lords to win over and power to secure. Preferably all before Senna returns, so he can afford her the protection she deserves. They may not have found another assassin in over a week, but that did not mean that the keep was secure…

"My lord," Ser Barristan entered the room, "Lady Cersei Lannister has requested a moment of your time."

Rhaegar groaned, quite audibly. Both knights saw just how little interest he had in seeing yet another Lannister, but this wasn't a matter of want, but rather a matter of propriety. He had no due reason to snub this girl and it was too soon to do anything that would turn her father against him.

"Send her in," he said.

The girl entered almost immediately. She was a pretty little thing, with hair of the color of spun gold and the green eyes of her father, though without their coldness. She was still young, but in a few years time, a great many lordlings would try to court her. To him, though, she looked just like a young girl with too much ambition. There were an eagerness and greed in her eyes that was quite disturbing. And no matter how pretty, next to Senna this girl would seem lackluster, he was sure of that.

"Your grace, I hope this day finds you well," the girl said with a bright smile.

He had to admit, she was trying her best to make a good impression on him here. Dressed up in a red gown that would have been better suited for a feast than an idle day at the keep without social functions. He could only shake his head at this.

"What brings you here, Lady Cersei?" he asked her somewhat cordially. He really just wanted to get this over with.

"Your grace, we will have a little gathering in the Queen's ballroom this evening. A small affair, only with friends in attendance. It would be our honor if you could find the time to attend," she told him, as she looked at him with a small smirk.

"I can not attend. The realm is still in a state where I can in no good conscience sacrifice time for insignificant gatherings," Rhaegar told her bluntly. "If that is all, please leave me to my work."

He could see how her eyes narrowed ever so slightly, as she repressed the look of disapproval and even the slightest sliver of anger. But she kept the smile on her lips for a moment longer, before she feigned sadness.

"That is unfortunate, but I understand your grace. The matters of the realm come always first. Always," she said before she curtsied and left the room.

Rhaegar shook his head as he watched her leave. So much arrogance and ambition, this couldn't bode well for the future. He already pitied the fool who would marry her one day.

"Now that was enlightening. She hasn't bothered inviting you to her gatherings so far," Arthur commented.

"What are you talking about?" Rhaegar asked with a weary sigh.

"Well… you haven't noticed?" Arthur sounded surprised, "The Lannister girl has used her family's considerable influence and quite a lot of gold to establish her position at court. The absence of our queen has left a void that this girl has filled all too readily."

"Why is she even here in the capital? There is nothing for her to gain here, especially not by trying to take what is rightfully Senna's, to begin with," Rhaegar groaned. The last thing he needed now was a fight between his wife and the ladies at court…

"The situation is unique. There are no women of the royal family here, so the ladies are left to their own devices. Far too many lords have sent their insipid daughters here in the hope that your wife takes them on as one of her ladies and thereby elevates their social standing. But Queen Senna only chose three, two of them from the same kingdom, so many people feel slighted by that. The Lannister girl is crafty enough to use this to her own advantage."

"I finally understand why my father has hated Lannisters," Rhaegar sighed. "So much ambition, so little common sense. As if her plan isn't obvious."

"It was likely never meant to be a secret. There are quite a few who hope that the Queen's prolonged absence is a sign of your lack of interest in her. The Lannister girl tries to prove to you that she can rule this court, should you set Senna aside and choose her instead."

"As if that would ever happen," Rhaegar scoffed.

Arthur chuckled as he saw the look of annoyance and repulsion on the king's face. "Well, no one really knows why you have sent your wife away. It was rather suspicious. Not to mention that there are still many who are not pleased by your choice to marry a foreigner."

Rhaegar had enough of this. He was so tired of this whole scheming, of the intrigues and the slander behind his back. It was high time for Senna to return, so they could put the rumors to rest and end the ambitions of the lords and ladies at court. If only those three weeks were already over.

Senna watched, as her guards marched towards the harbor, where they would board the ships that would take them to Westeros. The day of her own return had come and by now she was almost anxious to leave.

* * *

The weeks in Myr had done her good and allowed her to come to terms with what she had to do. In her first two lives, she had always hidden her powers from the common people. Secret societies with strict rules about the sensible use of her powers… now she could only scoff about the hypocrisy behind all this. It was never just about hiding their secrets from the world, but to keep all those with powers under control. But now, now she was the only one left and the rules were hers to dictate.

"Your grace," Ashara said, as she approached Senna. "Everything is ready. We can leave with the next tide."

Senna nodded, her eyes still on the streets below the terrace of her estate. She loves this view, always had, always will. And there no doubt in her mind that she would return here often. The next time she might even have her own children with her when she comes back home.

"What did it feel like for you, Ashara? To leave your home, I mean?" Senna asked the girl suddenly.

"I was scared, to be honest. I had never left Starfall before and then my brother comes to me and tells me that Arthur had sent for me and that I have to go to King's Landing posthaste. I had no idea what to expect," the girl told her truthfully. "Even now I miss my home. I want to see it again someday. My brothers expect me to find a suitable husband first, though."

"When I left my home for the first time I had to go to Volantis. I was barely five name days old at that time and had just lost my parents. But I wanted to return my mother's ashes to her family personally. So the magisters organized a ship with a suitable escort to bring me to my mother's home city. Needless to say that their idea of suitable was enough to scare away every single Tyroshi pirate from Braavos to the Summer Islands," she laughed lightly. "I wasn't scared, I was defiant and traveled like a princess. I have traveled much after that. Braavos, Pentos, Lys, Volantis, Elyria, I have seen some parts of the world, so when the day came for me to go to King's Landing, I wasn't afraid, I wasn't sullen. I was ready to begin a new chapter in my life."

"But now you have doubts," Ashara commented.

Senna smiled fondly at the girl and placed an arm around her shoulder as she leads her back to the main building, "You are right, my friend. I told myself that everything would be alright. But coming back here made me realize that I have only lied to myself. Even now I want to be selfish and stay here. Just another day, just another week… But duty forbids it. But I will return."

"I will miss this city as well," Ashara commented, "It is so much warmer here and there is so much to learn."

Senna smiled, as she heard this. She was quite proud of her home, despite the deplorable custom called slavery. Of course, her family had slaves as well, but she would have gladly freed them all in a heartbeat, but there were some things that made this difficult for her. Till her sixteenth birthday, her legal guardian had all say in this matter and the magister was not open to her ideas of a slave-free society. And once she was in control, she had been whisked off to Westeros to marry the heir of the Targaryen king. In the end, she was a hypocrite, speaking of freeing the people, but when she could do it, she hesitates… and she does not even understand why.

"So, shall we go to the ships then?" Ashara asked.

"Not yet. There is one more place I have to go. Want to come with me?"

The girl shrugged, "If it pleases you, your grace."

"Don't play coy with me now, Ashara," Senna chided before she grabbed the girl and apparated them both away.

Ashara stumbled and fell when the sensation of sudden and unannounced apparition disoriented her for a moment. Senna smiled fondly, as she remembered her own first few tries at this kind of magic. She had been dreadful at any kind of magical travel, at least until she had begun to use apparition much more regularly. Somehow she even missed the Floo network. But it made little sense here when she was the only one with a suitable fireplace… not to mention that she had no idea how to create the network behind all that.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," Ashara lamented.

Senna laughed, "The feeling of disorientation will fade in a moment or two. Come, let me help you up."

She pulled the girl back to her feet before she began walking further away. Ashara took another moment before she ran after her queen, more eager now to see where they would be going.

"Where are we?"

"We are still in Myr, alas in the cavernous underground of the city. There are countless caves underneath the city, some so small that a child could barely squeeze through, others as big as the Great Sept. The one we are in right now is among the biggest and has served my family since the founding of Myr as a safe haven and treasury. Only those who know how to enter can ever hope to come in here," Senna explained.

"Unless they have magic and just ignore the rules," Ashara mocked lightly.

"Yes," Senna laughed, "Unless they have magic and bend the rules."

A moment later Ashara's eyes widened even further when they had reached the main vault, where the Peverells had stored all the great treasures they had accumulated since the days of old Valyria.

"This is amazing… I've never seen so much wealth in all my life..." Ashara said in astonishment.

"This is the true legacy of House Peverell. The treasures of a civilization that has ceased to exist hundreds of years ago. Their gold, their art and their knowledge. One could say that the legacy of my family is also the legacy of Valyria itself," Senna frowned as she said this, "But that also means that all these treasures, all this gold, and all the art have been taken from the conquered or were created by the innumerable slaves that kept Valyria alive."

"I don't know what to say..."

"Rhaegar was no different when I showed him this place. Though he was not focused on the gold and artifacts, but rather on the library here. If I would let him, he would likely waste his life away in the shadows of this cave, trying to read all the books I have… If he can read them. Even I have my difficulties with some of the older texts. The Valyrian we know today is nothing but a bastardized form of the old language and many expressions used by the old dragonlords are entirely foreign to us."

Not that she had not tried to unravel the mysteries of those texts. Too many hours had she spent here. She had learned a lot from her ancestors. History and even some new forms of alchemy studies that had been completely beyond her comprehension before. And she knew that she would always come back to learn more. She might even bring Rhaegar with her next time.

"Come," she took Ashara's hand and lead her towards a smaller vault connect to the main cave.

"What is this place? An armory?" Ashara asked as they passed statues dressed in impressive ornamental armors. Each was more lavishly decorated than the one before. Breast plates decorated with dragons and other mystical animals could be seen, some even depicted whole scenes of a fight between the dragonlords and their enemies.

"Long ago my family had been one of the few Valyrian families that had dragonlords of their own blood. We were only a minor family, mind you, but we had dragons and men and women of great skill to ride them. Great stories have been told about their exploits and their great victories. And each and every dragonlord of my family had his own armor, artfully crafted and made to impress. What you see here are the armors of most of them. Over one hundred dragonlords, who have lived and fought for Valyria and House Peverell."

"So many?" Ashara breathed in astonishment.

"More even. We are talking about nearly a thousand years of Valyrian history. But many have died in battle and their armors and weapons could not be retrieved. But these armors are special. Today the lords in Westeros only know their Valyrian steel weapons, but they know nothing about the armors..."

At the end of the room, Senna stopped in front of one statue. It was a woman, depicted in the pose of a great warrior, sword in hand and raised above her head in what looked like a triumphant pose. But there was something different about her armor… or the lack thereof.

"What is this?" Ashara asked.

Senna wanted to answer, when Fawkes suddenly appeared and landed on the arm of the statue. The firebird even went as far as nuzzling the cold marble cheeks of the statue, as he began to sing a melancholic tune.

"This is the statue of Elaena Peverell, the last Valyrian witch of House Peverell. She was the one who lead my family to Myr and severed all ties to Valyria, only a decade before the doom. Thanks to her my family survived and it was her magical prowess that has protected us ever since."

"And now you have inherited her power," Ashara said in astonishment, as she walked around the statue to appraise it from all sides. "She looks amazing."

Senna smiled wryly before she replied, "I could only ever dream of becoming as powerful as she had been. Elaena had knowledge and powers that are still far past my comprehension. She had lived for over two hundred years, thanks to potions and spells she had created, before she took her dragon and left for the Sothoryos, never to be seen again. All she left was her library, her robes, and weapon… and her familiar. Fawkes had been bound to her as she had been to him. Even now he only puts up with me."

The phoenix heard her and lifted off from his place on the statue and landed on her own shoulder in a show of affection. She gently reached out to the bird and caressed his soft plumage.

"These robes are fit for a queen, why don't you take them?" Ashara asked her suddenly. "It would be a waste to eave them here, where no one can see them."

Senna softly shook her head. "No, Ashara. These armors and Elaena's robes are here so future generations of House Peverell can come here and remember their own great ancestors. They are not meant to be used by others."

Inwardly she cringed as she heard herself. There would be no future generations of House Peverell. She was the last and all her offspring would be Targaryens now. Traditions both in Westeros and in Valyria always dictated that the child would carry on the father's name. Technically she was no longer considered a Peverell either… she would have to teach her children about all the traditions and customs of House Peverell, so they would honor the ancient blood in their veins.

"And who would fault you for using these robes? Certainly not the phoenix," Ashara pointed out. "You are a queen and what better clothes to wear than the robes your most powerful ancestor has worn. And they have to be special, right?"

"They are," Senna replied. "But I haven't brought you here so you can convince me to defile my ancestor's memory." She accused lightly, "We are here so you can learn to understand what I am and what I will do once we are back home. Elia and Oberyn know and they are willing to accept the consequences of their affiliation with me. But I can't in good conscience drag you into this without giving you a chance to protect yourself."

"You are a Valyrian witch. I have to admit I have no idea what this really means, but your powers are amazing," Ashara said. "And I want to stand by your side if you let me."

"And why, my friend?"

"Because with these powers or without, you are Senna Peverell and I will follow you, as your friend if you will have me," Ashara declared passionately.

"Then I will strife not to disappoint you, my friend," Senna vowed in return. "Come, we should head to the ships now. We don't want to waste the tide."

As she walked back to Ashara, to apparate them both out of the caverns, she spared one more look over her shoulders, towards the statue of her ancestor. Being like her was an aspiration, a dream that seemed so far out of her reach. But maybe there was one thing she could do to feel closer to Elaena…

* * *

Rhaegar sat among his council once more, as they listened to Steffon Baratheon's report about the situation on Dragonstone. To call it desolate would have been insufficient. As king, Rhaegar felt worried and slightly bad for not being able to take proper care of all his people. But there were too many who suffer and too little to ease their suffering with. Summers were often bountiful, but Winters are a whole different case. No one knows how long a Winter will last, so they couldn't give as freely as they would like…

But what caused him, even more, worry, was the report about what had happened. The Tyrell girl, Mina was her name, he believed, had talked in great detail about what she had seen after the queen mother had been murdered. Especially Senna's strange powers were a topic, something that made Rhaegar frown. The foolish girl had blurted out Senna's greatest secret to a lord on the Small Council and worse yet, that lord was honor bound to inform the whole council about this as well.

"What kind of nonsense are you telling us here, Steffon," Tywin demanded angrily. "Speaking of mysterious lights and torture without even touching the prisoner. That girl must have had too much wine or hit her head one time too often."

Mace Tyrell began to sputter in indignation, but one dark look from the Hand of the King quelled any further protest. Rhaegar watched this in silence and filed this away for later. He may be a blubbering fool and a coward, but Mace Tyrell seemed unlikely to forget an insult such as this. Too bad that he lacked the spine to even consider planing vengeance.

"Now, now, Tywin. I'm only recounting what the girl told me," Steffon tried to calm his friend, "Sadly the rest of the witnesses are less forthcoming."

"The members of the Kingsguard only answer to the king," Ser Barristan announced imperiously. "If his majesty so desires it, they will share what they have seen."

"There will be no need for that," Rhaegar told them as he waved them off. "Whatever Lady Mina has seen, there has to be a logical explanation to it and no amount of quarreling and insulting here will give us the answer we need." Not that he would need it. He already knows what his wife truly is.

"Your grace," a servant entered. The boy was fidgety and out of breath.

"Speak boy," Tywin ordered loudly.

"Your grace, ships have been sighted sailing up Blackwater Bay."

"So what?" Steffon asked, "A hundred ships come and go every day."

"My lord, these ships bear the sigil of the queen. There are at least a dozen of them," the servant rasped. "They will be here in less than an hour or so."

Rhaegar was up from his seat in an instant. He had almost begun counting the days that had passed since her brief visit. After the way they had parted, he wanted to set things right. He had trusted her to keep her word that she would return. And she did. Though it puzzled him why there were a dozen ships, even with the people she had taken with her to Myr, one or two would have sufficed. Some more as protection against some overeager pirates, but not that many.

"Assemble the guards, we will go to the harbor," Rhaegar ordered. "This is a day of joy, the queen has returned to us." And with that, he left his council behind to prepare.

It was less than an hour later, that the king and a large entourage stood in the harbor, surrounded by thousands of curious people. They all watched as the first of the lavishly decorated ships had reached the harbor.

All of them waited with baited breath, whether Senna was really on one of those ships or not. He hoped she was, otherwise, he would look like a right fool in front of all his people. Not that most of them liked him at the moment. Without the many guards, they might even try to take his head. They had not yet forgotten the cruelty Tywin Lannister had committed in his name.

But his fears were unfounded. After four armed men, his wife left the ship, likely looking as regal and proud as the first time she had arrived in King's Landing. He hadn't been here back then, but he was sure of it.

But something was different about her. She looked more serious than the last time he had seen her. And her clothes… She wasn't wearing a gown, but robes made of a strange material that seemed to shimmer depending on the sun would shine on it. The robes red with golden trimmings, but what was most striking was the breast plate she wore underneath. Her sigil, the phoenix was displayed proudly on the golden plate, that fit her snugly. All in all, she looked more like someone who was about to go to war, than a woman who returned home after a long absence... But that did nothing to mar her beauty.

And the people loved her even more. They began to cheer and celebrate her return as if she was their savior from the unjust rule of their demon king. But their cheering came to a quick end when the dragon rose from the ship and flew over their heads, with a loud screech.

"That dragon has grown big in the span of a year. He is almost as big as a horse now," Arthur commented.

But Rhaegar paid his friend no heed, his eyes were still fixed on his wife, as she approached him. He had only eyes for her and by the looks, she had only eyes for him.

"Husband," she greeted him with a perfectly executed curtsy. If it hadn't been for the fondness in her eyes, he would have believed that her feelings for him might have ceased to exist.

"My queen," he replied before he took a step towards her. She did not shy away. Not even as he pulled her into a tight embrace. "Forgive me for being a fool." To hell with propriety, he had to know her heart.

She chuckled, "You are a fool. My fool," she said.

The people around them, more courageous, after the initial shock at seeing the dragon, even cheered for them as they saw the obvious and unusually public show of affection between their king and queen. They may hate him, but they love her. Maybe they even hope that she would change him for the better.

But then she took a step away from him and turned around. He wondered what she was doing when she realized that more people had followed her. Behind her stood the Martell girl, Elia, with a bundle in her arms. She handed the bundle to Senna, who cooed at it before she turned around.

"Rhaegar, meet Daenerys Targaryen, your sister," Senna said, as she showed him the little child in her arms.

He was surprised at first and quite clueless what he was supposed to do now. When Viserys had been a babe this young, he had not even been allowed to be in the same room as the child. Too scared was his mother that Viserys might get sick and die like most of their siblings had done before. But now Senna stood before him, holding his sister for him to see.

"She is… so small. Is she alright? Is she supposed to be this small?" He asked in confusion.

Senna laughed, a wonderful sound to his ears, "She is very much alright. I have taken every precaution possible to ensure that she will be safe and healthy. Do you want to hold her?"

"I… I'd rather not," he said awkwardly. But he quickly masked his feelings with the stoic mask of a king. "She seems more content in your arms."

Senna laughed lightly, as she saw his reaction. He was afraid. She was sure of it. Afraid of hurting the little baby girl because he had no idea what to do with a babe. She would have to teach him, so he wouldn't be this way once their own children are born. And Daenerys would help her.

"Where is Viserys?" Rhaegar asked, when couldn't see his brother anywhere near. "You haven't left him in Myr, have you?"

"He would have liked that," Senna replied, "He loved the city and its history. But he is on the ship now, still sleeping. "But come, let's now dawdle outside any longer. It may not bother me much, but the cold is not good for Daenerys."

Rhaegar obliged her and quickly guided her towards a palanquin. But before she entered the ride back to the Red Keep, she turned around once more, to speak to her guards.

"Thoros, see to it that the men are taken care of. Have them settle in and prepare a guard schedule," Senna told him. "And have Viserys escorted to the keep once he awakens."

"As you command, my lady," Thoros bowed lightly, before he walked back towards the ships.

"Your men?" Rhaegar asked, a dubious look on his face.

Senna didn't answer until they were both seated in the palanquin and on their way to the keep, "After what has happened on Dragonstone, I had to take precautions. I've brought my own guard to ensure the safety of my family."

"Your own guard," Rhaegar obviously didn't like the sound of that. Of course, he had seen the armored men who bore her sigil. He had expected her to have some protection, but the way she said it, it sounded as if she had more than just those few. "How many?"

"Only a hundred," she told him callously. "Men I can trust. Men who worship the very ground I walk on and who will stop at nothing to keep me and those I love safe. If needed I can bring in another one or two thousand, but for now, those I brought will suffice. They will protect my family without fail."

"We have the Kingsguard to do that," Rhaegar told her indignantly.

Senna only rolled her eyes, "Oh and what a marvelous jobs they have done. Two of those white-clad morons stood guard at mother's chambers, just as she was murdered. And they did nothing. They heard nothing, they realized nothing and they did nothing. Had I only come a moment later, Daenerys would have died as well," she whispered harshly. She would have yelled at him. Fuck propriety, all the city would have heard it. But she still had the baby in her arms and she did not wish to wake her. "I cannot trust your men, Rhaegar, so I have brought my own."

Rhaegar said nothing in reply. It was just like he had feared. She had lost all faith in him and his men, so now she would do things on her own. It was a bitter realization, but he couldn't begrudge her this. He had brought this upon himself when he foolishly sent his family away from the safety of the Red Keep. And he could see it in her eyes, the pain caused by loosing Rhaella. He knew that his mother had taken Senna under her wing and treated her like a daughter and it was apparent that the feeling had been mutual.

"Rhaegar, look at me," Senna commanded and he obliged her, "I am angry, yes. You have kept something from me that was of paramount importance for our all survival. I am angry, but I don't hate you. No matter how dumb your decision was and how high a prize we paid for it, you did mean well." Her voice became softer towards the end, as did her eyes. She even reached out to him with her free hand took on of his, squeezing it lightly. "We are in this together. No more secrets. No more lies."

"No more secrets," Rhaegar agreed.

They spent the rest of the ride in silence, as they watched the streets of the city and the people pass by. It was a tense silence, but in a way, Rhaegar felt relieved. Senna was angry, he had to deal with that, however, she did not hate him. There was a future for them.

* * *

Senna stared intently at the small vial in her hand. The slightly milky liquid inside looked ominous enough and had she not brewed it herself, she wouldn't have trusted it in any way. But she had created it for a reason. She only hoped that it was the right one.

A week had passed since her return. A week in which life in the Red Keep had returned to the way it had been before her departure… Well, almost. Rhaella's absence was ever present and Senna was mostly left to her own devices, which mostly meant spending time with the children or her dragon. The women at court had not bothered her once, which was alright with her. Keeping those silly women in check had been Rhaella's calling, but not hers. She had not shared Rhaegar's bed during these days either and even now she sat in the chambers she had occupied before their marriage, only accompanied by her handmaidens.

But it had also been a strange week. One filled with more than one fight with Rhaegar. No matter what she tried, they butted heads on several issues. One of them was his leniency towards Tywin Lannister and how no one had realized that half the city was burning before it had been too late. They overcame all contentious issues after some time, but it still shocked her how easy they were at odds now. Maybe a year apart had severed the connection they had formed. Or maybe they were both too stubborn and only now the issues arose where their viewpoints diverged.

One thing was for sure, though. She would not allow them to drift apart.

"Has my husband returned to his chambers yet?" She asked her handmaidens.

One of them stepped out for a moment, to speak with the guards. She returned moments later and answered, "Yes, your grace. King Rhaegar has just returned from a council meeting and has retired to his chambers."

She had made up her mind. Senna wouldn't torment them both any longer than necessary. And maybe all of this was childish as well. They had been apart for a year, another week seemed like an infantile attempt to punish Rhaegar. She would only punish them both this way.

"I will join my husband tonight. Both of you are dismissed for now," she told her handmaidens.

Both girls bowed deeply and quickly left her chambers to get back to their own. Senna had kept them busy in the past few weeks and they used any chance they had to get to some sleep. She felt bad for it, but when she talked with them about this, both denied vehemently that it bothers them.

A smile played on her lips, as she watched them leave. A few last preparations and she was on her way herself, towards Rhaegar's chambers, followed by six of her guards.

Rhaegar's chambers were guarded by Ser Oswell tonight and the knight adopted a suggestive grin when he saw her approach.

"Your grace," the knight bowed his head. "His majesty will be very pleased to see you. He can need some cheering up after that tiresome council meeting."

"I do hope so," Senna replied. "Men, behave with Ser Oswell," she ordered her guards.

"Don't worry, your grace. We will get along just fine, won't we boys?" Ser Oswell said with a chuckle. She knew how well he got along with them. He was the first among the Kingsguard to approach her men to get to know them better. It ended with him and two dozen of her men getting piss drunk in a tavern near the harbor. Never before had she seen Ser Barristan so livid as when they all returned, barely able to stand, singing a song barely suitable to be heard in the halls of the Red Keep.

"Good night, Ser Oswell," she bid the man.

"Oh, I know someone who will have a good night," the knight chuckled.

Senna just shook her head as she entered. She closed the door softly behind her and slowly walked towards Rhaegar's bedroom. Her husband was on his bed, his legs still dangling down on the side as if he had just fallen onto it in exhaustion.

"Too tired to even greet me now," she asked him mockingly.

He only then realized that he wasn't alone and shot up from the bed to look at her. She could see that weariness on his face, though it was quickly replaced by a fond smile as he saw her.

"Senna, is there anything I can do for you?" he asked her softly.

"There is," she told him, as she walked towards him, shedding her robe as she did so, "I am tired of us fighting. I am tired of us worrying. And I am tired of us being apart when we both know it will only hurt us both." By the end of her exclamation, she stood directly in front of him. "You are my husband, I am your wife. We should start acting like it." Then she laced her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply.

Rhaegar returned the kiss with equal fervor and passion. They both had missed each other more than they pride permitted themselves to admit. But pride be damned, they were united once more now.

"Let us continue where we stopped a year ago," she whispered in his ear.

"Gladly," he replied.

And though he might have been tired before, they had plenty of energy to spare for the rest of the night. Death, assassins and a realm stricken by turmoil and winter, none of that mattered. Only they mattered, as they spent the night together in passion, as they had done before.


	14. Passion and Strife

Senna slowly opened her eyes, still sprawled in Rhaegar's bed. She had slept well, curled up in her husband's arms. Better than she would have expected after one year without him. She only hoped that she would be able to give him what he needs the most now.

But as she opened her eyes, she found herself alone in the bed, her husband seemingly long gone. And she couldn't even blame him. She had obviously overslept if the sun outside of her window was any indication.

"Good morning, my dear," Rhaegar was still there and greeted her. He looked happier than she had seen in since her return as if a burden had been taken from his shoulders. And seeing him so happy, brought a smile to her lips as well.

"Good morning… my love," she answered. She hoped that she did the right thing by showing more of her feelings, despite their feeble state. She wasn't even sure whether it was love yet, however, she was sure that there was something. But the way his eyes lit up, she knew that the moment had been right. Though love can't be forced, that tiny spark at its beginning can be nurtured and theirs would need all the attention they could spare. And she didn't want to be angry, she had no wish to be vengeful. Not towards him. Even his most foolish decision had come from the heartfelt desire to protect her and his family and she couldn't begrudge him that. It was even endearing to know how much all of their safety means to him.

He quickly approached the bed and knelt next to her. He cradled her cheeks softly in his hands, as he pulled her in for a passionate kiss. Both reveled in the moment of blissful togetherness before they would have to part and face the world again, as king and queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

"Now I curse my crown, I would rather stay here with you than go and attend the council meetings and court duties," he told her softly.

"We still have the nights," she replied, her eyes still staring into his. There was definitely a connection between them and it sparked the desire to make their relationship work at all cost. To build a future together, with children of their own. A dream that she would hopefully make true very soon.

"The nights are not enough. If only we had had more time before the duties of the crown were left to us..." he lamented.

She couldn't look at him as he said this. It had been her fault after all. It had been her decision and it had been her actions that had killed Rhaegar's father. Had Aerys lived, they would have had more time, just to themselves. But countless others would have suffered the Mad King's wrath…

"We can do this," she told him, before she gave him a brief kiss on the lips, "Together!" The past couldn't be changed and even if she had artifacts like Timeturners at her disposal, she wouldn't dare to let Aerys live.

"Together," he agreed. "But wait, I have a surprise for you."

He suddenly left the bed and walked over to a table and picked up a role of paper. He looked giddy like a small child when he returned to her side and handed the role to her.

"What is this?" She asked. But he insisted that she should look herself.

She unrolled the paper and studied its content for some long moments. I was an architect's plan for a large scale building. A castle of sorts, with a city at its gates.

"I have promised you Summerhall before our marriage. Now I intend to keep that vow. The best and most capable men in the Seven Kingdoms and beyond are now at work to rebuild the castle and make it place worth living in. We will spare no expenses."

Summerhall… just like in her last nightmare. But in that nightmare, the magnificent place had been a ruin, ravaged by a fire and quite possibly by war. Thousands had died… for Summerhall? No, it was just Aerys' specter trying to mess with her head. A ghost hellbent on driving her insane. She wouldn't give him that satisfaction. This Summerhall, the real Summerhall, would be a magnificent place. A safe haven where she would be able to raise a family, away from the dangers at court.

"Rhaegar," Senna said, her voice a little darker than before, "I have one request to make of you. And I need you word on this."

"Whatever you want, my love," he told her, though his face was suddenly marred by worry.

"I feel bad for ruining the mood right now, but this can't wait. Rhaegar, I need you to end all your attempts to find the assassins who are after me," she told him.

"Are you insane?" he asked in shock, "I won't allow these madmen to threaten you any longer! And they murdered my mother, I can't allow this crime to go unpunished."

Senna only shook her head, "But I have seen the consequences of your work. You have caught many of these cultists, but you neglect other duties for it. You are the king and the king needs to care for the realm. Let me handle the assassins. I will avenge Rhaella."

"I can't do that. You will..."

"I will be fine. Trust me. I have a hundred men who are willing to die for me, not that I will ever demand that of them unless necessary," Senna said, "I am done hiding. I am done pretending to be something I am not, Rhaegar. I will find these people and I will see that they face justice."

Rhaegar frowned, obviously not pleased about this request. He saw it as his duty to protect her but little did he know that no power he could offer for her protection could compare to an angry witch a thirst for revenge. But he was obviously unwilling to risk their slowly improving relationship now. He wouldn't turn a blind eye towards this entire problem, but he would let her deal with it.

"You don't have to do this alone, Senna," he sighed, "But I can see that there is no way to change your mind now. Just promise me, promise me that you will be careful. No unnecessary risks."

"No unnecessary risks," she promised, "But you will be the king you are meant to be now, Rhaegar. No more distractions." She had seen enough in this past week. The council had developed a life of its own and was running rampant. The whole keep was whispering about it behind the king's back and even Senna would have completely missed it, had she not taken a short stroll through the city under the guise of Dorea and met some rather talkative serving girls from the kitchens of the Red Keep. That situation would not do at all. In the Seven Kingdoms, the king is supposed to make the decisions. Now it was the time to make sure that all the lords remember this very important fact.

"I wish I had never been born as a prince," Rhaegar lamented, "A king has few friends but an infinite number of rivals. But then I would have never met you… No, enough self-pity. You are right, I am king and I will rule."

Senna smiled at him and softly caressed his cheek. "You are the king and you can, no you will be the best king in the proud history of your family."

"If it only were that easy, my love," he sighed, "But you have duties as well, you know. Traditionally the queen is in charge of the ladies at court. It is your duty to guide them and lead them." He looked troubled for a moment before he continues, "Yet I fear your absence and your choice of companions has already estranged many of our courtiers and they look at some more… established people from powerful families to lead them. You will have a hard time winning them over."

Senna shook her head as she heard that. Before she had left, she had happily ignored these women. Rhaella had taken care of everything, but now this was biting her in the ass it seems, "Others had warned me that my choice of ladies was dangerous. But I have talked to those ladies at court and most of them are little more than simpering morons and spies for their families."

"Try to win them over, Senna. Even a queen will suffer from unhappiness if the court stands united against her. Sadly this is not something I can help you with now, so try to make some new friends, please," Rhaegar asked of her.

Senna sighed, before she nodded, "I will try."

He kissed her again and held her close before he wordlessly got up from the bed and left the chamber. Senna was sure that he would be alright. She had taken the largest burdens from his shoulders and now he could do what he was born to do. Rule. And she would be there for him, protecting her family at every waking moment.

* * *

"I don't know why she stirs up such a fuss because of it," Robert lamented, as he walked beside Senna through the long and winding corridors of the Red Keep. Ned was with them, together with Ashara and Mina, who followed two or three steps behind their queen.

"And I can't believe you actually have to ask that question. You got some girl pregnant and now you are surprised that your betrothed is angry with you?" Senna retorted. "Robert, you are literally asking for her to hate you."

"Pah, it is just a whore. And who can say whether it is really my bastard at all? She has slept with at least a dozen other men on that very day," Robert replied, still not aware of any guilt on his part.

"Yours or not, you should stop whoring around, Robert," Senna tried again, but her friend had proven to be rather stubborn in this case.

She had actually missed Robert and Ned… well, the latter more than the former. Life had been duller without having them around and the chance to sneak off into the city, unseen by anyone… well except Rhaella. Senna was still unsure how the woman had managed to figure her out. Not that it mattered anymore… But still, Robert's boisterous and fun-loving nature and Ned's calm and soothing presence had made her days in King's Landing brighter and she was glad to have them back. Even though she really had to resist the urge to turn Robert into a mule right now.

"Ned, please speak sense to this stubborn fool. He might actually listen to you," Senna groaned.

Behind her, she could hear Ashara and Mina snicker, as the whole scene must have been absolutely hilarious to watch.

"He wouldn't even listen to me," Ned said calmly, "But I can try to get Lyanna to calm down."

"As if that would do him any good," Senna commented, before she turned back towards the young Baratheon, "You need to do something to show Lyanna that you are more than just a drunken oaf who cannot keep it in his pants."

"And what would that be, oh wise and benevolent queen?"

"I don't know. Do something that she likes to do." She wasn't sure what he could do before she remembered something Ned had told her, "Take her hunting. Ned said that she loves to ride and hunt."

"That might work. Lyanna always tries to sneak out of the city to ride," Ned said thoughtfully. "If you can convince your mother to let her go with you, she would certainly appreciate it."

Robert looked skeptical at first, but he relented, "Fine, I will give it a try. But stop talking about me and my troubles," Robert barked, "Why are we really here?"

Senna suppressed the frown that had threatened to come, instead she opted for a slightly forced smile. "We will take a little stroll through the city and I had thought that you would like to come. It has been so long since our last little adventure."

"But you..." He stopped, unsure of whether this would reveal any of her secrets.

"Go on, they know," Senna urged him.

"You want to go as Queen Senna, not Dorea?"

"Yes. It is the time that the people see their queen. Time for them to see that the royal family is interested in their lives and their happiness. Too much has happened in the past year and after recent transgressions against the smallfolk, I feel it is high time to show the people that their king and queen are here to protect them and care for them. And I want to see for myself what the people need the most."

"A noble idea," Ned commented. His words and the expression on his face showed his approval.

"A foolish one if you ask me," Robert retorted. "The people are riled up because of those bastard Lannisters. Not to mention that there are still those who want you dead for unknown reasons. You are just asking to be killed."

"Thank you, Robert, but you need not worry on my part. I am perfectly capable of protecting myself," she looked smugly at him, though he only scoffed.

"If you say so," he said, unconvinced, "At least you wear armor under those strange robes."

If only he knew that the breastplate was not at the only protection the robes had to offer. Elaena Peverell had been a true genius and had woven countless spells into her robes, that Senna could benefit from now. At least until she had learned how to create such robes herself, so she could return the robes to their rightful owner… well, her statue at the very least. She wasn't happy that she had to resort to taking her ancestor's possession. It was a breach of tradition, but she hoped that Elaena would have approved. She had only borrowed the robes, after all.

"Come now, the city is waiting for us," she tried to sound cheerful and judging by the looks of her companions, she was somewhat successful.

They quickly reached the entrance of the Red Keep, where more than a dozen of her guards were waiting for her. As much as she disliked showing military force in times when the city guard had been used to expel the poorest of the city's inhabitants, it was necessary.

"Are the men ready, Thoros?"

"Always, my lady," Thoros replied. He had taken well to his new role as the leader of her personal guard. And the men were not bothered at all, seeing as Thoros was a Red Priest and enjoyed greater respect from them, at least for some time.

She nodded before she began her journey towards the city. Despite the offers to provide palanquins for her and her ladies, she insisted on going on foot. She wanted to see everything and to be seen by everyone. And she had all day to stroll though the city, from one gate to the other.

The people were obviously wary of her armed escort at first, but the more they watched her interact with the people around her, the more they saw her, the more their reluctance left them. And it was replaced with open curiosity. A Targaryen queen that walked around the city and spoke to the people on the streets, that was something none of them had seen before. And she even asked about their grievances and wishes...

Rhaegar listened to the never-ending prattle of Mace Tyrell, as the man praised his own work with the Targaryen fleet. A tiring and the most wasteful way to spend his time, but a duty he had to fulfill, if only to keep the man happy and on his side. Mace had not forgotten Tywin's slight against his sister and thus Rhaegar had an easy time winning the man over.

The rest of the council seemed equally bored.

"Now after this enlightening report, we should move on to other topics. Most pressingly the queen's newly acquired guards. There are some concerns about their influence on the queen," Lord Tywin announced, just as Mace had sat back down.

"And what influence is that supposed to be?" Rhaegar demanded to know.

"Their foreign religion and the associated beliefs and values. A hundred armed followers of this red god are a threat to the safety of the people and to the culture and religion of the realm," Tywin stated harshly. "The High Septon is most concerned about some of these men and their attempts to gain new followers by preaching their dangerous beliefs."

"Of course, he would. Anyone who weakens the stranglehold of the Faith is seen as a danger," Steffon said, as he chuckled darkly. "Matters of the Faith should not bother us here."

"Yet they do," Tywin told his friend resolutely. "Despite her long absence, the queen is still admired by many of the smallfolk and should she fall to this foreign religion, many may follow. The realm can ill effort religious turmoils. Not during a winter, not ever."

"You tend to forget that Senna is from Myr and as such she has been raised with this faith. The guards will do little to change her," Rhaegar insisted. "And my wife would never turn this realm into a battlefield. The guards are only for her protection."

"Be that as it may, the presence of these men causes turmoil and they should be removed," Tywin insisted.

Rhaegar shook his head and chuckled darkly, "That won't happen. These men protect my wife with great devotion and I will not send them away to expose her to more attacks."

"Your grace, this is most..." Grand Maester Pycelle began, but Rhaegar interrupted the man.

"My word is final. If the High Septon has any quarrel with my wife's protectors, he may come and take it up with me," Rhaegar said imperiously.

The reactions on the council varied greatly. The Grand Maester seemed cowed for the moment, and Mace Tyrell seemed more cautious after this royal command. Steffon, though, seemed almost amused and smirked, whereas Jon Arryn was more thoughtful. But it was Tywin's reaction that was the most interesting sight to behold. He seemed vexed by Rhaegar's new found backbone, something that pleased Rhaegar all the more. Senna was right, he had to be the king, not some puppet of his own council. And this won't be the last time he would teach them just how much a king can do.

"This part of the city has burned down some months ago. Nearly half of Flea Bottom has been consumed by the flames," Ned said, as they walked through the ruined part of the city.

Senna had to repress the scoff that threatened to come. Of course, they had managed to contain the flames in the nick of time before it would have threatened anything but the poorest part of the city. The last time she had been here, the people had suffered from sickness and long-term malnourishment, similar to those on Dragonstone. But at least on that island, she had been able to help. She hadn't returned there, but she had been told that the people praised her name with almost religious fervor now. Despite their village leader trying to kill her, she had not demanded vengeance, as many other lords would have done. Instead, she had saved them all from certain death in this ongoing winter, by sending ships filled with food and all else they would need to survive.

"These poor people," Ashara said, as she joined Senna and Ned. The rest of the group was near but avoided getting too close. "But why won't they clean up the rubble to rebuild?"

"I have only heard some of it from Lord Arryn, but apparently, the king has seized the land for the crown, so the merchants could not take it for themselves. Apparently, his grace believes that the merchants caused the fire, to increase their property and influence in this city," Ned explained.

He only spoke softly to avoid spreading this rumor among the smallfolk and Senna could easily understand why. Many people had suffered here and at the moment they still believe that the fire had been a sad accident. Should someone convince them otherwise, though…

"If we wish to rebuild the houses here, we first have to get rid of the rubble. But that is easier said than done," Senna lamented, "No matter, I will see to it that these ruins are turned into something that makes the lives of the people easier."

"No more houses?" Ashara asked curiously.

"This place had been a rundown breeding ground for diseases and crime," Robert barked, as he walked over to them, "Why in the Seven Hells would you want to get that back?"

"Peace, Robert, she meant nothing by it," Senna tried to calm him. But she also knew that he had seen more of Flea Bottom than all of them combined, just because he had drunk his way through every tavern in this city, no matter how poor and run down. Of course, he had also seen the worst the poor part of the city had to offer.

"I would..."

"Death to the Phoenix!"

Before anyone could react, several masked men appeared from the nearby alleys. All of them were armed as they stormed towards Senna and her friends. Within moments they were surrounded by the attackers and the massacre began.

Her guards remained undeterred in the turmoil, as they stepped in to protect their lord's chosen from harm.

But Senna… she watched the ensuing fight with great anger. She had expected more attempts on her life, but not such a large-scale attack in total disregard of the innocents around them.

"Too predictable," Senna muttered, as blasted an attacker away with a well-placed spell. And as more and more bodies began to litter and the air brimmed with the power of her charms and curses, Senna was sure that this was only the beginning.

It was shocking to see how these attackers threw their lives away, even after seeing what she was capable of. She had little choice but to retaliate in full, lest she would risk the lives of her friends, but the more of her magic she showed, the more determined the cultists seemed.

Fires began to ravage the buildings around them, as the attackers set them on fire to prevent Senna's escape. Chaos raged and the streets seemed to drown in blood as more and more people died.

The enemies were numerous and even the Gold Cloaks who came to the aid of their queen could do little to even out the numbers. It was a madness that had taken the city, as the innocent ran away from the scene in utter fear for their lives. These were no assassins, this was a full blown cult with great numbers and even greater influence. There was simply no way that a group of this size could hide within the walls of King's Landing without help.

"Your grace, we need to retreat," Ned screamed.

He had pushed Ashara behind himself to protect her and he would have done the same for Senna as well, had she not begun to curse people all around her. She needed no protection, all of them could see that clearly. Even the cultists realized their folly soon enough, though it did little to deter them. They attacked her regardless in utter disregard of their own mortality.

Only when more and more armed men appeared to defend their queen, the fight slowly came to an end. The streets were littered with dozens of dead and dying, as Senna slowly walked through streets and looked at the carnage. The fires were still burning all around her and the men tried to contain them before more of the city would be consumed, But she paid the fires not much heed, merely put them out with a quick water spell and walked on. They had seen her use magic in a fight, so it was of no consequence for them to see her use it otherwise.

All around her, the remaining people watched in undisguised curiosity as she performed her magic. Never had they seen anything like it before and many of them were scared. Even when she used it to help people, by putting fires out or moving the rubble of a collapsed building, that had trapped a member of the city guard beneath it. It was too foreign, too unconventional for them to understand what they were seeing. But what they saw was their queen, who had been attacked in broad daylight by almost a hundred or more men. A queen who did not run, but fight beside the men protecting her. A queen that stayed behind, even after the fight, to help those who had aided her before. And despite the fear of her powers, she earned respect and adoration for that as well.

"Now this is an ugly mess," Robert said. He let out a barking laugh soon after, "But Seven Hells, nothing gets your blood pumping like a good fight. Killed at least a dozen of those bastards, if not more."

"How bad is it really?" Senna asked him.

Robert shrugged, "Don't know. Nearly all those bastards are dead, one or two of your men as well. The Gold Cloaks took the hardest beating. Poorly trained as they are, they could hardly match the skill of these cultists."

"They were not skilled. They cared little for their survival, that made them so dangerous," Senna told him warily.

"Either way, they are dead now and I need a good drink and a wench on my lap," Robert retorted, far more cheerily than appropriate in such a situation.

"Have the men gather all the surviving cultists, please. I will have a word with them later. Then you can go and drink as much as you want. I pay," Senna told him.

Then she walked on until she reached Ned and Ashara. The latter was shaking like a leaf in the wind. But both seemed unhurt and even now the young Stark was still there to comfort the young Dornish lady in this troubled moment.

"Are you alright," Senna asked them.

"Just a little shaken, your grace," Ned replied.

"Ashara?"

"I'm unhurt… but these people, why did they try to kill you?" Ashara asked.

Senna sighed, as even she could merely guess, "I honestly don't know. But I wouldn't be surprised if this was in any way connected to the whole prophecy nonsense Lady Melisandre had tried to convince me of. But I had never expected them to be this bold. To attack in such numbers reeks of desperation."

"Ashara!" Again someone yelled the girls name, a man this time.

Two knights of the Kingsguard appeared on the scene, Ser Arthur and Ser Barristan, who both seemed shocked by the carnage. And with them came at least a hundred more armed men, all ready for battle. But Arthur's attention was quickly drawn towards his sister and Senna knew that it would be better to give the siblings some space now. At least until the knight was assured of his sister's sound condition.

Senna meanwhile talked to the other knight. Lord Commander Barristan Selmy.

"Your grace, are you unhurt?"

"Yes, Ser Barristan. None of the blood is mine," she said. Only then she realized that her robes were covered in blood as well and would require some extensive attention later. "But the same cannot be said for many of the men."

"We had never expected that there are this many of these murderers," Ser Barristan said darkly, "We assumed that they would only resort to assassination attempts, but our recent success in foiling their plans must have shaken them up."

"This isn't over yet. There are more, I'm sure of it," Senna insisted. "They only sent the expendable against me. Untrained but none the less fanatic followers. We need to find them before they manage to recruit men who are truly armed and dangerous."

"Then I will have every able-bodied man in the city search for them. And if we have to search every single house from here to Oldtown, we will find them for you, your grace," the knight vowed.

Though Senna wasn't too fond of the Kingsguard at the moment, she had a deep respect for this man. And how could she not? This was the very man who had ended Maelys Blackfyre, the monster who had been the cause of so many deaths in her family. Her uncles and cousins had been avenged, when this knight had killed the Blackfyre mongrel.

"There is something else I wish to do," Senna told the man, "Can you please arrange for a list of all the guards that have died and got wounded in my defense today? I wish to aid their families, help them deal with the loss and the consequences."

"That is very honorable of you, your grace. I will have that list for you by tomorrow at the latest," the knight said, as he looked at her in utmost respect. "But maybe you should return to the keep now. Word of the attack has already reached the Red Keep and his majesty is beyond worried for you. We barely managed to convince him to stay in the safety of the keep."

"I will return soon, once I have made sure that I can do nothing more to help here," Senna said. She yearned for a long bath and an even longer nap, but she had brought this bloody madness to this city and she couldn't just run away from the consequences.

And she had one more member of her entourage to look after. So she looked around until she saw the girl standing at a house entrance nearby. She looked unharmed and as normal as anyone could look in a street filled with dead and dying men.

"Mina, are you unhurt," Senna said, as she reached the girl. She placed her hands on Mina's shoulders and looked her over. But apparently, the girl had managed to avoid the thick of the battle, much to Senna's relief.

"I… what are you?" Mina said as she looked at her queen with wide eyes. "Never have I seen anything like this."

Senna smiled sardonically at the girl. She could hardly fault her for asking this, even though most people at court would have scolded her for the inappropriateness of her actions.

"You have already seen what I can do. At Dragonstone," Senna replied, "I am more than just a daughter of old Valyria. But this is hardly the place to talk about this. I will explain this to you. But later."

"Yes, your grace," Mina replied, though her face still showed uncertainty.

Senna looked around, but she saw nothing more that would require her attention for now.

"Come, let us return to the keep. Your brother will surely be worried sick," Senna told her, "I will have to apologize to him for putting you in harms way."

She had put them all at risk. She had chosen such a public outing not just to show her people that their queen does care for them, but also to draw her enemies out. To move them to attack her, so she could capture one of them alive. But never had she expected so many of them to come at once. Her folly had cost a lot of lives on this day and her friends had nearly been among the dead… She wouldn't make this mistake twice.

"Mace would never hold you responsible for the attack of madmen, your grace," Mina quickly replied. It was almost as if she was afraid that something might happen, should anyone believe that House Tyrell would dare to speak against the queen. And that traitorous voice in the back of Senna's mind whispered incessantly that the fear was real. Fear of what a Valyrian witch could possibly do.

Senna gave the girl a small smile, to reassure Mina that all was well before she guided her towards Ser Arthur, who had assembled all able-bodied guards to protect the queen's return to the Red Keep. The group was far bigger than the one she had left with and all of them were on the edge.

And the walk back to the keep was far different now. The people watched, as they had done before, but there was an even greater curiosity and no small measure of fear in them. The news of what had happened had spread far quicker than even she could have anticipated. Now there was no turning back. Soon enough everyone in the realm would know that their queen was more than just some noble born lady.

* * *

"Lord Commander," Brandon Stark greeted the man, as he left his horse in the courtyard of castle back.

"Greetings, Lord Stark," Lord Commander Qorgyle replied stoically. "Welcome to Castle Black. I only wish the circumstances of your visit weren't as grave."

Brandon looked grimly at the man, as they walked towards the elevator that would take them to the top of the Wall.

"The raven you sent was as vague as one can get, so I must ask you, what has happened to my father?" Brandon demanded. "He came here to inspect the current condition of the defenses at the Wall and now you tell me that he is gone!"

"He is. Vanished one night. Bid him good night after a long evening of planning, but the next morning his quarters were empty and his horse was gone," the Lord Commander replied. "Not even his own guards had seen anything."

"A man can't just disappear from the keep!" Brandon said hotly. "Are you taking me for a fool?"

"No one left through the southern gate. We can say that for sure."

Brandon was shaking with fury as he heard this. His father was gone and these men claim ignorance? How dare they. This wasn't one of Nan's stories, where unbelievable creatures from the beyond the Wall appear to steal away little children. The Lord of Winterfell was missing and he would be damned if he left Castle Black without any answers.

"But we have reason to believe that someone had snuck out with a patrol in the morning," the Lord Commander continued.

"And pray tell me, why would my father ride beyond the Wall? Alone to boot?"

"That I don't know, Lord Stark," Qorgyle replied apologetically.

They had reached the top of the Wall by now and proceeded on their way towards its edge. Brandon remained silent for some time, as he stared down on the world below them. The frozen world beyond the Wall, where Wildlings and untold other dangers were lurking for all those who came unprepared.

"Have you sent men to find my father," Brandon asked after some time and some deep breaths to calm his raging blood.

"Yes, your grace. All the rangers I could spare are on patrol now," the Lord Commander said, "Sadly, their number is far fewer than I would have liked. Our ranks are depleted and..."

"The whole courtyard is full of them! You've been sent every single able-bodied man in the North to make up for your recent losses beyond the Wall."

"Yes, but those are recruits. Send them out there and the Wildlings will butcher them before they can even leave the saddles of their horses," Qorgyle said darkly. "All men I could spare are looking for Lord Rickard, that is all I can do for you."

"I will search this whole castle, from the highest tower to the lowest dungeon," Brandon vowed.

"Feel free to dig the courtyard over if you like. It will make no difference," Qorgyle replied before he walked away.

Brandon remained at the edge of the Wall and stared at the wilderness for some more time. Something was wrong, he could feel it. His father wouldn't just run away at night and abandon his family. He would find out what had happened and if it was the last thing he would do. But first, he would need to write his brother. He would need Eddard in the days ahead.

* * *

Robert was piss drunk when he returned to the Red Keep. After a good fight, he was in dire need of as much wine and ale as his body could contain and then some. Luckily if there was one thing that the city had in spades, it was alcohol. And whores. Thank the gods for the whores.

The guards only watched him from a distance, used to his tendencies by now. No one would bother him unless he suddenly keeled over. He may have wobbled dangerously at that very moment, but he wouldn't fall. How embarrassing would that have been? No, he wasn't entirely steady, but well enough and quite capable of finding his own quarters.

But there were a lot of people in the corridors for this time of the day. Guards, servants, the ladies of the court. Seven Hells, he was sure he had also seen that one girl of Senna. Meryl… Mira… no, Mina or was it? His mind was a tad bit fuzzy. But he saw her. Her and that one little yellow cow. Pah, he couldn't care less for them.

After some more wobbling, he had reached his room and pushed the door open. To his surprise, the door offered less resistance than he remembered, and he fell into the room and right onto his face.

"Seven Hells!" He cursed, "This fucking door!"

"Are you done cursing the door now?"

Robert rolled onto his back and looked up to see who was talking to him. It was Ned, who looked at him with unabashed curiosity and even a little bit of mirth.

"Just what have you been drinking? You smell like a pile of horse shit," Ned commented.

"Shut up, Ned, and leave my room. I want to sleep..." Robert slurred.

Ned chuckled, as he offered Robert his hand to pull him up from the ground. "It's a bit late for that, Robert. You've been away all night. Lord Arryn wishes to see us now."

"Tell him… the usual," Robert replied.

"Sure. I will tell him that passed out in your own vomit, as usual," Ned said, followed by a deep sigh.

"What does he want now anyway?"

"He has questions about the attack on Queen Senna. And of course, her abnormal abilities," Ned said.

Robert tried to remain steady, as he shook his head. He was piss drunk, but even in this state, he couldn't have dreamed up such a fantastic story. He had seen Senna's magic before, but this had been his first time to see her fight. And hell she can fight… He was glad that she wasn't one of those arrogant bastard Targaryens, even though she had married one.

"I will go and meet Lord Arryn alone then," Ned said, "Try to get some sleep. And a bath. Wherever you have been, the odor is hardly tolerable. And once you need it, there is one of those potions waiting for you. One of the queen's handmaidens gave it to me with the clear instructions only to hand it over to you once you truly regret your night of debauchery. But looking at you know, there is no sense in keeping it. So drink it when needed."

"Sod off," Robert muttered.

He slowly wobbled towards his bed and fell onto it. Mere moments after he had hit the sheets, he was sleeping soundly. Ned watched the all too familiar scene with a fond smile before he left the room to meet with the Lord of the Vale.

* * *

The torturer's cell was dark and gloomy. But it didn't bother Senna too much. It suited her well, actually. Because what she was about to do now, was something that no one was supposed to see. The people were shocked enough about her powers, there was no need to fan the flames of distrust and fear even more.

Only two other people were in the room with her. The torturer, who had tried time and time again to get answers from captured cultists and the only surviving man from the group that had attacked her in the city. But she wasn't here for to torture, she was here for answers.

"Leave us, Cleos," she ordered the torturer, "I will do this on my own."

"Will you be alright, your grace? Torturing is a bloody business. With all respect, it is not a woman's work."

"I'm not here to torture. Leave," she ordered once more.

The man on the rack had watched this in silence. He only stared at her with lifeless eyes.

"Now, my friend, you will talk," Senna told the man.

"I will tell you nothing," the man said. His voice was even and calm. No fear, no derision. It was as blank as his face.

"I will get my answers, one way or another. Spare me the hassle and talk. Who sent you and why?"

"I will tell you nothing," the man said once more.

Senna shook her head sadly. She really had not wanted this. But she had little choice. She needed answers and would get them. So she produced a small vial from a hidden pocket inside her robes.

"You are forcing my hand here. I usually abhor using such methods, as they represent all that what I don't want to be. But in a situation like this, I will have to use potions to get what I want. Please forgive me for this intrusion," she said.

He tried to turn his head away as she was about to administer the truth serum, but one spell later he was immobile and she forced his mouth open. The effect of the potion was imminent. The man had no defenses against such methods what so ever.

Now this man would tell her everything.

"Who are you?" she started simple, just as she had seen in her past life.

"Dudley..." She almost snorted as she heard the name. In another life, this name had meant something for her. She wasn't so sure what it was, but she knew that now it was a faint echo. A memory lost in the transition between lives.

"Where are you from?"

"Flea Bottom..." his voice sounded strained as if he tried to resist. But his feeble mind would yield all information now. Whether he wants it or not.

"Why have you attacked me?" she finally asked.

"Because you are a demon, a monster that threatens us all."

A monster… of course her powers must seem monstrous and be threatening to some people. But these people started attacking her even before she had shown her magical powers to anyone. She needed more answers.

"Why? Why do you believe that I am a demon?" she demanded.

"Because you brought the plague to our lands. You are the monster who is responsible for the deaths of my wife and children. I will never forgive you. None of us will ever forgive you!"

"Who has claimed that I am the one responsible for this?" she yelled at the man now, not that it would have made a difference.

"The man you murdered, our one true king, Aerys Targaryen!" the man suddenly screamed, as if he was in immense pain. "You… get out of my head, you monster..." he spat.

The potion was slowly losing its grip on the man's mind. But she had heard enough. It was quite disconcerting… and it shocked her greatly. These people… all the men who had died today and those who had died before, they acted out of desperation. Not malice, desperation. Men and women, who saw all the hardships and dangers they had to face now as her fault...

"What in the name of the Seven is going here?"

Senna's concentration was interrupted when someone else entered the room. It was Rhaegar, who had come together with Ser Arthur, to see what she was doing in the dungeons.

When she looked at him, she saw the worry on his face. And how could he not be worried, when his wife was down here, in this dark and gruesome place, together with one of the men who had tried to murder her and her companions. Worse yet, she was crying as she stood next to the prisoner. Before she could even utter a single word, he was right next to her and pulled her into a tight embrace.

"Everything will be alright. They won't hurt you ever again," he mumbled soothingly into her ear. Little did he know why she was really crying.

"You don't understand. These people… they are desperate. They do not attack me because of sheer malice, but because someone has riled them up. They recruit from the most desperate and helpless and turn them against us. Against those people who have done nothing to help them."

"It is alright," Rhaegar repeated soothingly, as he gently petted her hair. "We will find their leaders and end this, once and for all."

Yes… she was sure of that. She would find their leaders and she would end them all. No longer would she allow them to abuse the poor and desperate. And she would have to do much more to help the people. They would need a reason to love her, right now they only had a good reason to fear her. And that would not do.

* * *

It was already getting late when Rhaegar had made it back to his solar once more. It wasn't by choice. Not exactly. He could have said no and simply accompanied Senna back to their rooms, but he had too much to do now, in the wake of such a large scale attack on his wife.

She just had to go ahead and show her powers in such a public setting… He sighed in exasperation. This was a headache he could have done without. But he couldn't fault her. The situation was dire and they might have gotten overwhelmed, had she just stood back and let others do the fighting for her.

He shook his head and let out another weary sigh. Even all pondering how he should deal with the situation would get him nowhere. The secret was out and before the year would come to an end everyone in the Seven Kingdoms would and beyond would know that more than just dragons had survived the destruction of Valyria.

A servant appeared suddenly, a young boy, who looked more scared than anything to face his king. Under other circumstances, Rhaegar would have found such shyness amusing, but he was not in the mood.

"What is it?" he asked impatiently.

"Your majesty… a visitor," the boy said nervously, "I mean you have a visitor, your majesty..."

"Send him in," Rhaegar said.

Moments later not one, but two lords of his council entered the solar. Jon Arryn and Mace Tyrell. Rarely had Rhaegar been so surprised, as when he saw both of these men together.

"We must apologize for the lateness of our visit, but in the light of recent events you surely agree that some things should not be postponed," Lord Arryn said calmly.

"This is about my wife," Rhaegar stated and both lords nodded.

"I am merely here to express my utmost gratitude for Queen Senna's actions. She has saved my dear sister from harm and House Tyrell will not forget this," Mace stated eagerly.

Always eager to please, as usual. The lord of Highgarden was powerful, yet utterly predictable and easy to manipulate. But it suited Rhaegar well. The man was quick to join the king's own faction and it was easy to keep him happy.

"Your sister is a valued friend and companion of my wife. She would do anything for her friends," Rhaegar assured the man with a friendly smile. He knew that this wasn't exactly the truth. From what Senna had told him, Mina was little more than a follower but nowhere near a friend. But Senna would have protected her regardless. He was sure of it. She wasn't the type to abandon others to their fate.

"And how far would she be willing to go, your grace?" Jon Arryn asked. "I mean no offense, your grace, but I am concerned. How far is your wife willing to go, when she has the powers to destroy a whole city at the tips of her fingers."

And so the topic of the conversation had been chosen. Senna and her powers. Strangely enough, he had expected Tywin Lannister to be the first to storm his chamber and demand answers about his wife. But maybe the man was planning more, now that he knew that Senna had inherited more than just the Valyrian beauty, but also the powers considered lost with the Doom. And thanks to the marriage pact for their children… He didn't even want to think about that. The pact with the Lannisters was something he should have never done, but after his father's death, he had needed to ensure that there would be no power struggle.

"Senna would never use her gifts against innocents," Rhaegar replied calmly. "I have only met few women like her. Someone truly pure, someone who would never hurt others merely for the sake of it. These days everyone is so intent on playing a game that only a few truly understand. But Senna, she doesn't play. She would never play this game if it meant to destroy others."

"Yet here she is, with powers unseen since the Age of Heroes," Jon Arryn insisted. "People at court are already asking questions about how she has acquired such powers. Others wonder if she has you under her thrall, making her the only true power in this realm."

Rhaegar actually had to laugh as he heard this. They actually believe that Senna controls him? Surely most men have forgotten just how much a young wife can influence her besotted husband. She had no need for magic to do this.

"She is a daughter of Valyria. There is no second woman in this world of such pure Valyrian ancestry," Rhaegar told the men, "And as the powers of Valyria go, they are more of a destructive nature, I'm afraid. So no, my wife holds no power over me. Outside of the bed chambers at least."

He chuckled lightly, which Mace mimicked almost immediately. The lord of the Reach understood what Rhaegar meant. Mace had only recently married himself, a daughter of House Hightower and he was more than just fond of fair Alerie Hightower. But the expression on Jon Arryn's face remained stoic.

"But the people are concerned. The queen has proven to be exceptionally powerful. And above all, she controls the only living dragon in this world. Not to mention that she is a foreigner who surrounds herself with men who follow a foreign god. She may be a good and virtuous woman, but her actions leave the lords and ladies of the realm concerned."

Again the same discussion. Senna's guards had raised concern before, now she has shown herself with strange and almost unnatural powers. Powers that were often seen in connection to the heretical faith of the eastern fire-worshippers. Of course, this all would raise suspicion. Rhaegar could almost feel a headache coming, just by trying to understand the repercussions of all this.

"And what would you have me do, Lord Arryn," Rhaegar asked pointedly, "Put my wife in chains and exile the men who have saved her life today? The men who have saved the lives of her companions as well!"

The latter statement prompted Mace Tyrell to sputter in indignation about this. The mere though seemed to upset the man and he was quick to jump to his king's side in this discussion.

"I meant no disrespect for the queen, nor have I implied the need for any punitive actions against her. No, we should rather seize the moment and ensure that the public cannot be riled up against her majesty. Fear is a powerful tool and at the moment the whole realm lives in fear. But at the same time, no one knows what her powers can do. That is our advantage," the old lord said. Jon Arryn was quite shrewd himself and Rhaegar knew that any plot from this man might be infinitely more preferable to one hatched by Tywin Lannister.

"And what would you suggest?" Rhaegar asked.

"Your majesty, I have heard quite a lot about your wife, both from Robert and Eddard. My wards see your wife as a friend and I trust their judgment. But she has to convince the realm. Lords, ladies, and smallfolk. And she has to be quick about it. Reassure the people by having her use her powers to help the people. Convince the lords by having their daughters serve the queen as companions, so they can learn from her. And convince the Faith that she firmly stands for the Seven by having her guarded not just by foreign zealots but also by anointed knights from all of the realm."

"Guarded by knights? To protect her from harm or to protect all others from her?" Rhaegar asked, his voice showing just how ridiculous he found the notion. But even he couldn't admit that Lord Arryn was right. Senna had to act now or others would use this whole commotion to recruit even more men and women to try and kill the queen.

"The viewpoint would determine the duties of the knights. You would see them as her protectors, those who fear her would see them as her jailors," Jon replied.

Rhaegar did not answer immediately. He pondered the proposal for some time, as he tried to come up with something more substantial of his own. It wasn't even a real plan, merely a general direction they would have to take. But the more he thought about it, the more he had to admit that the Lord of the Vale had a point here. But there was one unanswered question.

"Why? What would you gain here, Lord Arryn?" Rhaegar asked the man directly. There was no need to ask Mace, it was rather obvious what he wants.

"Peace, your grace. I fear that the realm is on the verge of destruction. All it needs is a spark to light the fire that will burn the entire realm to the ground. Call me a fool, but I have no need for more gold and more titles. All I want is peace for my family and my people," Jon replied calmly.

"An honorable notion," Rhaegar commented.

"Not at all, your grace. It is a selfish one," Jon insisted. "House Arryn is on the verge of failing. A war would likely end us and our proud history. I have no children of my own, only a nephew who will inherit my lands and titles and a distant cousin if all else fails. We cannot afford an open conflict."

The man's answer was as bold as it was truthful. Rhaegar could understand the pressure of having to protect a legacy far older than the realm itself. The Targaryens were even closer to extinction. Only he and his brother were left to continue the bloodline. Even Daenerys birth had done little to change the fate of their house. The future of the royal family would rest on his and Senna's shoulders now. And peace would be of paramount importance for their wish to have children of their own.

"Very well," Rhaegar said, after a long, suffering sigh. "I presume that I can count on both of your support in this?"

"Of course, your grace. It would be an honor!" Mace exclaimed quickly. The man seemed giddy like a little child at the prospect of being involved in any the king's great plots.

"We serve at your pleasure, your majesty," Jon Arryn agreed.

"Then let us work together, for a prosperous and peaceful realm," Rhaegar said, as he watched both men intently. He couldn't trust either of them indiscriminately, but having them work with him was a start. Maybe Senna's actions had done more good than he had believed at first. But only time would tell whether this was true...

* * *

Rhaegar was already back in their rooms, as she returned late at night. He didn't look pleased, as she entered the room, but there was also great worry there as well. And he had all reason to. He had expected her to stay in their rooms after he had brought her here. And yet she had slipped out only moments after he had left.

"Where have you been, my love?" he asked her.

She smiled sardonically at him, as she slowly began to undo her robes. "I tried to take the next step in my hunt for these cultists."

"You tried?" he asked for clarification.

"Yes. I am sure it has worked… but I can only wait for the results now," she said.

He slowly walked towards her and helped her open the clips that kept the breastplate of her robes in place before he pushed the loosened robes from her shoulders. Before he was fully done, she quickly kissed him.

"You have been careful," he asked her quietly, as their lips parted.

She nodded before she fully discarded her robes and pushed him back towards the bed. "No one has seen me and I have not been at risk at any time."

"I trust you on this, my love," he said.

Hearing this meant a lot to her. More than she could put into words, so she could only kiss him again, with even more passion than before.

They fell on the bed together, as he kept a firm grip on her waist to keep her from slipping away. Not that she would have tried. Their heated kissing continued for some more time before their urges would lead them to even more enjoyable exertions.

"Tell me, Rhaegar, if we have a boy first, what should we name him?" she asked him playfully.

His eyes lit up as he liked this topic far more than the one before.

"Aegon. A powerful name with great importance for my family," he said.

She chuckled and looked at him intently, "A good name. But not for our son," she insisted. "Too many bad memories."

He was a bit put out by that, but he quelled his protest with another kiss, "Just hear me out, my love. Our son needs a good name. One that the people don't connect to war and fire and blood."

"What name would you want for a son?" Rhaegar asked, a curious look on his face.

"Aerion," she said without hesitation.

"Aerion?" he looked perplexed, "Like Aerion Brightflame, the madman who drank Wildfire in the belief it would turn him into a dragon?"

"No. Like Aerion Targaryen, the father of Aegon, Visenya, and Rhaenys. The last Targaryen who had tried to establish peaceful ties with House Peverell. Who knows, had my own ancestors been less stubborn, Aegon might have married a Peverell and not his sisters," she said. "And it is the name of Aerion Peverell, my grandfather, under whose leadership Myr had prospered and withstood all the enemies that had threatened to take our home from us."

"There had never been a King Aerion," Rhaegar commented, "But who says that this would be a bad thing. But first, we need a son, then we can name him."

"Then less talk," she said, before she captured his lips once more and both of them lost themselves in a night of passion and love.


	15. Queen's Guard

The fires shone brightly in the dark night, as the men stood around the large pyre. Six fires, the only light on the secluded terrace near the sea. Six bodies, slowly burning away, as nearly a hundred men watched.

And in their midst stood the queen, dressed in red robes, like the man next to her. The man chanted, as he did what he only did on rare occasions. He followed his vocation as a priest of the Lord of Light.

But all Senna could do was watch… In the end, six of her men had died in the battle. Six men who had willingly sacrificed their lives for hers. Unflinching, with utmost devotion. And now they would return to their god's side. At least their remaining companions believe that to be the case. Senna knew death much better than they would ever be able to, and she knew that even the gods could only barter with death.

"It is done," Thoros said, as he finished his chant.

"No, not yet," Senna replied, as she stepped forward, further towards the pyres. All the men watched her now, as she stood in their midst. "In this dark night, we return six of our brothers to our lord. Their sacrifice will never be forgotten and once the Long Night has been banished once more, their names will be praised in the songs along those of all the other heroes who will follow their example. But our path is still long. And the night is dark and full of terrors," she preached, in the same fashion she had seen Lady Melisandre preach before. She didn't like it very much, but she understood how much this would mean to her men.

"The night is dark and full of terrors," Thoros repeated loudly, followed by the rest of the men.

Knowing that her duty was done, Senna turned away from the pyres and back towards the Red Keep.

The fires would burn for at least another hour and most of her men would stay until the very end. It was one of the rare occasions when they could openly follow their religion. Without reproach, without threat from the ever present overly zealous followers of the Andal Faith. This was so different from the world they were used to, but Senna knew that her words had only enforced their devotion to her.

"The men are happy," Thoros told her, as he had reached her side. "They have seen you fight. They have seen how you commanded fire against your enemies. And tonight you have made them truly yours. Once word reaches the temples on the other side of the Narrow Sea, thousands more will flock to your banner."

"Their devotion is an honor, but it also feels wrong to use them like this..." Senna told him. "It is not right." She remembered vaguely how such fame and devotion was a double edged sword. Too much reliance on what she can do will never help anyone...

"Not right, my lady? You are our lord's chosen. Your talents are his gift and his mandate," Thoros told her earnestly.

But Senna merely chuckled, "Stop speaking like this. You sound like Lady Melisandre and that is truly disturbing."

Thoros laughed heartily, "I may be a bad priest, but even a man like me can be moved by a true wonder."

"And you believe I am a wonder?" Senna asked, her face showing just how skeptical she was of all this.

"What I believe is unimportant, my lady, but what you do are wonders that no one else has done. You may think we priests are charlatans and nine times out of ten you would be right. But Lady Melisandre is right about one thing, you are special."

"You are drunk again," Senna accused the priest lightly.

"Just a little," Thoros admitted, "Not even half as drunk as usual." She chuckled in amusement as she heard his excuse, but decided not to reply.

They continued on their path in silence after that, which suited Senna just fine. Drunk or not, she knew that Thoros was right. Now that her magic was no longer a secret, all the world would know. And those who so desperately hope for a sign from their god will mistake the powers of her blood for divine intervention. Was this what Lady Melisandre had hoped for? She hoped not. But knowing the enigmatic priestess, she might just as well have seen all of this in her flames.

But at the same time she also remembered what the priestess really wants. Her son. A child that had not even been conceived yet. A child that was already subjected to two fates. To marry a Lannister… and to be the fabled savior of the followers of the Lord of Light… She wouldn't allow her children to come to harm. And if they would inherit her magic, she would teach them all she knew, so they would be able to protect themselves and their future…

* * *

"Your grace," Elia greeted, as she entered he Queen's ballroom. A servant had informed her that her queen had need of her and she reacted promptly to the summons.

Senna stood in the center of the large room, surrounded by a dozen servants. Of her other ladies only Mina was present, Ashara was nowhere to be seen.

"Elia, how are you feeling? Has your health recovered?" Senna asked the Dornish princess.

Elia smiled kindly at Senna, as she heard the genuine worry in the voice of her queen, "I am feeling well your grace. I am ready to serve you once more," she replied.

Elia had always been of feeble health, but sea travel had only proven to be exceptionally taxing for her. The cold winter winds and the constant wetness had taken its toll on her and confined her to her chambers ever since their return to the capital.

"I am glad to hear that. Next time we visit Myr, we will take the shortcut," Senna told her with a smile.

The shortcut. Her magic. Elia had no qualms to admit that she had been scared, the first time she had found out about her queen's… unusual abilities. Strange as her powers are, in the end, Senna was just… Senna. It had taken a bit of time to settle in, but in the end Elia was sure that even the greatest secrets of the Valyrian blood could do little to deter her.

Funnily enough, Oberyn had neither been surprised nor worried by Senna's magic. Of course, she remembered that her brother had met Senna years ago and spent some time as her guest in Myr, but it would seem that he had learned more about the Jewel of Myr than he had admitted at first.

"You are planning a gathering, your grace?" Elia asked.

Senna sighed, as she dismissed the servants around her, "Not by choice. But Rhaegar insists that I take over role Queen Rhaella has left me."

"It will be magnificent, your grace," Mina piped up.

"Truthfully, it doesn't matter all that much. It is mostly an informal gathering, so I can get a feel for the ladies at my court. I want to see who I can count on and who will have to… find other arrangements in the near future," Senna said casually.

But Elia understood all too well what her queen was talking about. The court had developed a life of its own in her absence and now Senna would either have to retake control or clean house. Elia wasn't sure which she would prefer. There were a lot of conceited women at court now, many who would seek to rise above their station no matter what… but the consequences of a hard-handed approach could be quite severe as well. Most lords would not sit back and watch their daughters, wives and sisters suffering the consequences of their own misdeeds.

"Is… I… what are you going to do to them, your grace?" Mina asked carefully.

Senna shrugged, as her gaze wandered through the opulent room, "Nothing that will damage Rhaegar's position as the king. But always remember, Mina, ultimately no deed goes unpunished."

And with that, all was said.

"How can I be of service for this," Elia asked, after digesting the queen's rather ominous threat.

"Elia, I will very frank with you. With both of you. So far I have not done my duties as your queen, at least not in the way people expected me to do them. So as things are right now, I am not sure who I can trust here at court," Senna admitted freely, "But I want to trust you. Both of you."

Somehow Elia was both pleased and puzzled by the queen's words. To be one of the few the queen truly trusts, it was a wonderful opportunity for House Martell. Her brother would shower her with praise for this, even though she herself had no deeper plans than helping her young queen fit into the role she was now in. But then there was the slight hesitation she had noticed. The last part had almost been an after thought, as if Senna had second thoughts about one of them. Curious indeed. And she had no idea where Ashara was in all of this…

"I will prove myself worthy of your trust," Elia declared evenly. Mina quickly said the same.

"Good," Senna seemed pleased, "Then I must ask the both of you to mingle with my guests this evening. Converse with them. Feel free to speak about the more unassuming aspects of our last year, if it gets the other ladies talking to you just as freely."

"I will try, your grace, but they might not be very forthcoming with information. They do know about my involvement with you," Elia cautioned her.

But Senna merely laughed lightly, "They do know, yes. But they also heard about a scuffle that has happened, because of your brother's involvement with one of my friends. It is also why I've asked Oberyn to go and visit his daughters for some time. Let's just say, they believe that our relationship is on a shaky grounds at best."

"A marvelous plan, your grace," Mina said quickly. But again, Senna said nothing to the girl to acknowledge her praise.

"Good. Now go, both of you. Prepare for the evening," Senna ordered before she left them both to attend other matters.

* * *

Eddard looked lost, as he stared at the piece of paper in his hands. He had read it trice already, each time hoping that he had misunderstood what was written there. But with every repeat, the words remained the same.

His father was gone. Missing. No one knew how he had disappeared and where he might have gone. Beyond the Wall most likely. But why? And how?

And now Brandon was the Stark on Winterfell and the Warden in the North. He wasn't sure how he felt about this. He loves his brother, as he loves all of his family. But Brandon wasn't ready… their father had said it himself. They had hoped for at least another decade or so. Time for Brandon to settle down and become the man he needs to be. It was why his father had tried to speed up his son's betrothal to Catelyn Tully. A wife and children would have surely cooled Brandon's wolf blood.

"Ned! Are you alright," Lyanna had come to the Red Keep after he had called for her. But now that she was here, he wasn't sure how to tell her. She wasn't on the best of terms with their father, but despite that Starks always stick together when their family is in danger.

But he couldn't bring himself to say it, so he merely handed her the letter and began pacing in his chamber. He didn't watch her, as she read, instead, he thought about his duties now. Brandon needed him. He had written it himself.

"We need to go home!" Lyanna exclaimed loudly. She was visibly agitated, even more than he was. "We have to find father!"

"No," Ned replied solemnly. "We do not."

"So you want to abandon our father? Are you so content staying here and playing lapdog for this foreign queen, that you forget what it means to be a Stark?" Lyanna yelled at him.

"I will ride north," Ned replied, "And I will help Brandon find our father!" He ignored her words, let them go unpunished as an emotional overreaction.

"WE will!"

"No," Ned said again. "You won't. It was father's will that you stay here under the tutelage of Lady Cassana."

"I will not stay behind," Lyanna was outraged.

Ned sighed. He had known that this would be an issue, but he wanted to honor his father's wishes and decisions. Even if she would hate him for it.

"Lyanna, your place is here. Father wanted you to stay here and get accustomed to living in the south. Once you marry Robert you will be an important lady at court," Ned told her gently, "This is your future. The North will be forever a part of you, but your place is here."

"Ned, I love you, I really do. But if you insist that I marry that pig one more time, I will be missing more than just my father."

Ned shook his head sadly, as he heard her anger. Senna was right, Robert would have to start acting like a proper suitor for her… but sadly he wouldn't be here to ensure that. Senna would have to be the one to help Robert… gods help her with that.

"Lyanna, you will stay here. You will learn all you can from Lady Cassana and once you are ready you will enter the service of Queen Senna."

"Or what, Ned?"

"The queen is a good woman and she understands your trouble with Robert. Believe me, she is one of your greatest advocates. Go to her if you have any trouble, she will take care of everything,"

He would have to trust that Senna would be able to keep Lyanna in line. The queen is powerful and independent, the kind of woman his sister would love to be. Surely there wouldn't be any trouble… or so he hoped.

"I am not one of these simple minded ladies," Lyanna stressed.

"No, you are not. But neither is the queen. Trust me… and trust her," Ned implored her.

Lyanna looked angrily at him. Of course, she would want to go home. She had wanted to leave the capital before, but with their father missing, her will to leave only seemed to have intensified. But Ned trusted his father's judgment. Lyanna would be safer here.

"I don't like this," Lyanna told him darkly. "I am a Stark. I belong in the North."

"And the North will forever be a part of you. But for the moment you are better off in the south," Ned told her once more.

Lyanna sighed, before she nodded, "Fine. But if anything happens to you or Brandon, not even your so beloved queen can keep me here."

Ned chuckled as he heard that. Somehow he already felt bad for saddling Senna with his willful sister… but on the other side, it could just as well be a very interesting time for the both of them. Who knows, maybe a wolf and a phoenix can get along just fine… and if not, he was sure that Senna was about the only one who could make his sister listen. The Queen is after all the most powerful woman in the realm…

* * *

He slowly pushed the large doors open, as he entered the half-ruined building. But on the inside, it wasn't even half as derelict as it had looked on the outside. He saw hundreds of men, scurrying around, fixing up the building that had been all but abandoned for more than a century.

Who could have ever imagined, that the royal family would make use of the Dragonpit ever again… It was both amazing and frightening. But he is no fearsome fool. He is a Lannister and they are the second most powerful family in the realm. Until recently he would have even dared to say that they were the most powerful… but that was before the dragon… and before the current queen.

"What are you doing here, boy?" an armed man questioned, his words barely understandable due to his thick accent.

Six more of these guards approached him, all on high alert. And all of them proud wore the phoenix crest, the sigil of the queen.

"I am Jaime Lannister, squire to Ser Arthur Dayne. I am here to deliver a message to her majesty the queen," Jaime replied calmly. He was glad that he had managed to remain this calm, even though both the idea of facing the queen and her dragon and the dark looks of these foreigners made him wary. He had no doubt in his mind that these guards cared little for the Lannister name and would just cut him down if they believed him to be a threat to their queen.

"Sword," one of the guards demanded with an outstretched hand.

Jaime hesitated for a moment. Entering the lair of a dragon and a woman who can kill with a mere snap of her fingers seemed kind of a bad idea. But he had his orders, so he would have to comply. These men would hardly allow him close to the queen otherwise. But he also wondered why the only demanded his sword, when he could be hiding more blades on his person. It seemed awfully stupid of them…

Once he had handed over his sword, the guards pushed open another door, which allowed him access to the much larger, dome like structure. But it was the giant crumbling dome above him, that left him in awe, but also the cavernous room before him. As if the whole structure had only made use of preexisting caves to house the worlds most dangerous beasts… All in all, the building alone looked far more fantastic on the inside, than on the outside and he wondered why so few people ever bothered coming to his place. It had been all but abandoned for over a century…

A loud roar resounded from the walls, making the young Lannister stop in his tracks.

"Stop begging, Draco. You've already had your supper, you damn glutton," a woman yelled.

Then Jaime saw them. Near one of the larger caves, that serves as a dragon pen. The dragon was more than twice as big as a horse and stared at the woman standing before it. It was the queen, no doubt about that. No other woman in this city had this kind of silver-blond hair.

Her back was turned towards him, as she stared down the dragon. It looked like a folly that could easily cost her her life.

He wanted to yell out in warning when the dragon's tail was about to hit her from behind. But before he could utter a word, the beast's tail was batted away by some unseen force. Only the queen's outstretched hand would indicate that she had been the source of that force.

"Enough, Draco. Back to your pen, no walk for you today. Unruly lizard," the queen yelled at the dragon, who in return moved away from her and further into the cave behind it. The beast even looked cowed by her… what an utterly amazing sight. It was clear who was the most dangerous of the two.

"Is this your first time seeing the dragon?"

Jaime had been so focused on the queen and her dragon, that he had barely realized that someone else had joined him. A young girl, by the looks not much older than him. He recognized her as Ashara Dayne, Ser Arthur's sister and arguably the prettiest among the queen's ladies.

"You are not the first to be speechless after seeing Queen Senna play with her dragon," Ashara continued. She giggled lightly, "People are terrified of the dragon. Of the queen, too, I guess."

"But the dragon seems… feral. It would have attacked her," Jaime replied, "It is a danger to the city."

"Hardly," Ashara replied in great amusement. "It is playing with the queen like any child would play with a sibling. But she is always in control and the dragon knows this. Believe me, I had been scared about Draco, just like you are now..."

"I'm not scared," he cried indignantly. A Lannister is never scared. Not even of a dragon, let alone an adolescent one.

"Of course not," Ashara replied. "But trust me on this, the dragon is hardly dangerous as long as you don't threaten it or those it sees as family."

"Family?" That sounded utterly ridiculous. The dragon was the last of its kind. It has no family.

"The queen and princess Daenerys. For some reason the dragon has only accepted the women of the royal family so far. Even the king has to be careful around Draco," Ashara commented, "Not that it matters much. The next to hatch will be his."

"They plan to hatch more?" Jaime asked, wide eyed. One of these beasts was dangerous enough, but should the Targaryens managed to hatch more and gods forbid, begin to breed these beasts again, their power would be unmatched for another century or more…

"It would be a waste to leave the other two eggs in some vault beneath the keep," Ashara replied with a shrug.

Jaime wondered if this was really the king's plan or just this girl trying to mess with him. It was a miracle that they had managed to hatch one of the eggs. It had cost the lives of dozens of people, among them King Aerys and Lord Commander Hightower. They wouldn't really dare to repeat this... Or would they?

"Draco seems a bit unruly today, so you won't be able to get any closer, my friend. Going to him would be as foolish as sending a half-educated child to a dragon's clutch to remove an egg. But… Ashara, why didn't you tell me that you would be bringing guests?"

The queen had finally reached them, a look of undisguised curiosity on her face. Jaime was actually at loss for words for a moment, as he saw her staring at him. Her strangely colored eyes were both beautiful and scary. They were actually similar to those of Ashara and Ser Arthur, only darker and shining with great power… But he tore his gaze away from her eyes and tried to remember the only eyes he truly considered beautiful. Her green eyes.

"He is not here at my invitation, your grace," Ashara assured the woman quickly.

"So, Jaime Lannister, why are you here?" the queen asked. "Are you following Ser Arthur's orders or your father's?"

"My father sent me to you with an invitation for a private dinner this evening," Jaime told her. "It would do us great honor if you could come. There is much her would like to talk to you about."

"Of that I am sure," Senna replied ominously. "But sadly I have to decline his invitation. I have already made prior preparations for an informal gathering of the ladies at court. But please tell your father that I will be happy to join him some other time."

A gathering of the ladies? Why didn't his father know about this? Surely Cersei would have known. She was the one most ladies at court followed at the moment… unless the queen had purposely not invited his sister… that could possibly end in disaster for Cersei. He would have to talk about her immediately.

"I will go and inform my father then," Jaime said, as he tried to excuse himself as quickly as possible.

But the queen was unwilling to let him go just yet, "No hurry, my friend. A servant can inform your father. I would like to use this situation to get to know you better. You are Ser Arthur's squire and Arthur is my husband's best friend."

Jaime wasn't happy about this, but what else could he do? It wouldn't be wise to deny the queen when she claimed to seek his friendship… this woman was surely doing this on purpose.

"Come, let's take a walk through the city. Surely my husband will feel better, knowing that I have one of his most skilled swordsmen among my companions," Senna told him lightly.

"As you wish, your grace," Jaime replied through clenched teeth.

"Perfect," Senna replied, "Thoros, get the men ready, we go and take a walk in the city."

* * *

As Rhaegar returned to his chambers, he was exhausted. The longer the winter dragged on, the worse the situation seemed to become. This winter had only begun a year and a half ago, but they already had parts of the realm suffer from starvation. And the lords were less than forthcoming with help for the Smallfolk.

And then there was the one topic that no one could ignore. Senna's magic. But strangely enough, except for the lords Arryn and Tyrell, none of the other men on the council had approached him because of it. The constant suspicion of these men's motives was taxing as well.

"You look dead on your feet," Senna commented, as she saw him.

"I feel even worse. I can only pray that this accursed winter ends soon," Rhaegar said with a sigh.

Senna kissed him briefly before she returned towards her dressing table and resumed combing her long hair, "I would like that, too. It is easier for newborn to survive their first year during the summers."

"Yes," Rhaegar replied simply. He had lost many siblings, some stillborn, others due to their frail health. Most had died during winters. But this really wasn't the kind of thing he wanted to think about. "How was your gathering with the ladies?"

"Excellent," Senna replied, "More than half of them have actually shown up."

He wondered briefly why she sounded so chipper. Any other queen would have felt insulted or worse, if only about half of the ladies at court would follow her invitation. It was a direct insult towards the queen, yet Senna seemed almost pleased.

"Don't look like that, Rhaegar," Senna scolded, as she saw his frown in her mirror. "It was quite enlightening."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes. Now I know who I can trust and who should be removed. I will give them some more time to consider their conduct, but all those who ignored my invitation without a good excuse will soon see the errors of their ways."

"I hope you know what you are doing, Senna," Rhaegar said. He was worried that she might be making a big mistake here, but he trusted her to make her own decisions in this regard. The ladies are her duty after all.

"Sadly I had to decline a personal invitation of Tywin Lannister today. He sent his son to invite me for a personal dinner, but alas, we had to reschedule," she said, sounding quite amused.

But Rhaegar frowned. It was quite forward of the lord to invite the queen, especially when no such invitation had been forwarded to the king as well. So whatever the man wanted, it was surely connected to her magic. He had to be extremely curious, otherwise, he would not have disregarded proper protocol so openly. Rhaegar was sure to remind him of this blunder during their next private meeting.

"But I had a very nice conversation with the younger Lannister. Arthur's squire accompanied me as I inspected the construction sight near Flea Bottom," she told him easily, "Somehow I couldn't shake the feeling that he doesn't feel well in my presence. He always stayed a few steps further away from me than necessary."

"Arthur keeps me informed about the boy's progress. He is a very promising swordsman. In a few years he might be among the best in the whole realm," Rhaegar told his wife, as he began to undress. "And how could he not, with the best swordsman we have as his mentor."

"It is a pity that Arthur is a member of the Kingsguard. It would have suited us better to see Jaime removed from his family for some time. I fear that he is firmly under his father's thumb. And he is obviously obsessed with his sister," Senna looked slightly troubled by this, so Rhaegar wondered why this seemed to bother her.

"They are twins. Siblings always care about each other," Rhaegar offered.

But Senna was unconvinced, "That's not what I mean. I managed to get the boy talking and just about every second or third sentence was Cersei this or Cersei that. Even for siblings, that is quite unusual. Especially when he is talking to me. The little girl does seem quite jealous of me after all."

And that was an understatement. Had her father been any lesser lord, Cersei would have been banished from court and publicly disgraced for her less than subtle attempts to usurp the power of the queen. Alas, her father was Tywin Lannister, likely the second most powerful man in the realm and Rhaegar still had need of him.

"Has the Lannister girl been at your gathering today?" Rhaegar asked cautiously.

Senna laughed, "Gods, no. Her invitation got… lost. Some foolish little servant boy must have lost it. Too bad that there were so many servants involved that we can't possibly tell who had been tasked with inviting her."

He chuckled as well as he heard this. The girl must be quite furious now. All ladies had been invited. All but her. Showing up without the invitation would have been too forward even for the pretentious lioness, so even after finding out she would have to stay put. But apparently, she still had enough time to rally enough of the ladies she had won over with promises and gold to stay away from the queen's event.

"But I had the pleasure of meeting some other ladies. Lady Alerie Hightower, Mace Tyrell's wife, was quite pleasant to talk to. A very warm and open person. Quite besotted with her husband as well. She just wouldn't shut up about him and their sons. Young Willas, their oldest will be five soon. Maybe he would make a good companion for Viserys. Gods know he needs playmates his own age. I can't take him with me wherever I go."

"I am sure Mace would be delighted," Rhaegar told her dryly. More favors of this kind and the lord of the Reach might suddenly declare him his closest friend in the world. "I get the feeling that he would like to tie our houses together in a more permanent manner. He has inquired about my little sister on more than one occasion."

Senna laughed as she heard this. Daenerys is a healthy and happy child and there was little doubt that unlike so many of her siblings, she would easily reach adulthood. And as soon as she was old enough to be presented as a permanent member of the court, many lords would try to win her as a bride for their sons. I will be utter madness, Rhaegar was sure of it. Only his own children would be even more sought after. Which reminded him.

"I have been told that you didn't feel well today," he said.

She merely waved him off, "It was nothing. The fish yesterdays didn't agree with me, that's all."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Rhaegar. Believe me, should I fall pregnant anytime soon, you will be the first to know," she promised him. "But I do have a feeling that I won't be long before we have a few dragons of our own."

* * *

Senna looked at the men before her with suspicion, an eyebrow raised and her lips a thin line. Seven knights, chosen especially for her… well, they only had five at the moment. Rhaegar and his council had yet to find suitable candidates for the vacant positions. Not that there was a lack of volunteers to choose from. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to think about this, but Rhaegar had informed her about this event.

Apparently, the stern followers of the Faith were quite displeased by her guards. More than that, they feared that their queen might even diminish the power of the Faith in the Seven Kingdoms. To placate them, Rhaegar had agreed to have his wife guarded by anointed knights. Seven of them, similar to the Kingsguard. But they were not hers to command, but his. They were not guards, they were wardens. And she didn't like that one bit. But for Rhaegar's sake, she would make the best of it. Refusing would have placed him in a very difficult situation.

"We are at your command, your grace," Denys Arryn, the most outspoken of the knights said.

Of course, everyone knew that they were talking to Rhaegar, not her. She only sat on a smaller throne next to the monstrosity that was the Iron Throne. It placed Rhaegar high above her, not that such foolish symbolism bothered her. But the men at court obviously like to see it this way.

Senna stood up and walked towards the knights. The men kept kneeling before the throne, even as she walked past them and inspected them closely.

Burton Crakehall, Denys Arryn, Garth Hightower, Lomas Estermont and much to her surprise, the newly knighted Myles Mooton. She couldn't contain the small smile, as she saw how proud the young man looked.

He had only been knighted the week before. Now Senna knew why. For a moment she had wondered why Richard, Rhaegar's other squire, had not been chosen as well. Or maybe it was better this way. Having both of the king's squires guarding the queen when so many young noblemen strife to earn this honor would have caused more trouble than it was worth. But to her, it meant that there was only one familiar face among her wardens.

"Men, by guarding my wife you are also guarding the future of the realm. Be ever vigilant and honorable. And show no mercy to your enemies," Rhaegar exclaimed loudly.

Senna sighed before she motioned for the men to stand. Much to her ire, all but Myles looked at Rhaegar for confirmation first.

"Very well then, come with me," Senna tried to hide her exasperation, as she walked past the men and out of the throne room. She didn't turn around to see whether the knights were following her, but the sounds of their heavy boots on the polished floor were sign enough that they were following her closely.

Outside of the throne room, her own guards were waiting and quickly took their positions around her as she walked through the corridors of the keep. They even kept the knights further away from her, even though she had not ordered any such thing. Somehow she knew that this was just another headache waiting to come.

As soon as they were far enough away from the throne room and the majority of the court, Senna came to a halt and turned towards the knights. All five of them looked expectantly at her.

"You all are here because my husband trusts that you are capable and loyal. After all that has happened lately I will only say this once, so listen closely. If I get even the smallest indication that you are loyal to anyone but my husband, I will see you replaced. I will not suffer spies near my family, neither will I tolerate you trying to play your games for power behind my husbands and mine backs."

"Our vow is to the king," Ser Garth Hightower said strongly. He frowned at her and she knew that there was more he wanted to say, though he was clever enough to keep his mouth shut.

"Remember that. Always," Senna told them, her voice unsuitably jovial, "And now you will go and arrange your schedules with the captain of my guard. There is now way I will suffer all of you at the same time. Two at most, no more. I already have enough men guarding at all times." At her words her own guards stood even taller, if that was even possible. They took great pride in their duty and served her zealously. The knights would have to learn how to coexist with them eventually.

"The council was very specific about..."

"The council has no say in this. Either King Rhaegar has ordered you or I don't care," she knew that she was rather harsh to them and they likely did not deserve to be treated this way. But she also knew that there had to be some basic rules that these men would have to follow. And she would make sure that they would know this sooner rather than later.

* * *

"Your grace," Tywin Lannister said, as he bowed ever so lightly before the queen.

It was a coincidence that he would meet her in the hallways of the keep, not far from the Tower of the Hand. Even greater was the lack of sycophants around her. She was only in the company of her guards and Ser Burton Crakehall. It was all such an utterly suitable coincidence that he doubted he could have arranged it better himself.

For more than a week she had been unavailable for the private meeting he desired. Social functions, duties for her family and the most often disappearances she was already known for had made it quite troublesome to catch her at all.

Only Jaime, his son, had managed to find her once or twice, but most of the time the queen remained elusive. Only the king would know where she was, but Tywin had no intention to drag Rhaegar Targaryen into this conversation.

"Would you care to accompany me on a stroll through the gardens, Lord Tywin?" the queen asked casually, with an almost innocent look upon her face. Whoever would see this, would not think ill of her intentions, yet it was clear to Tywin that this time, she was the one to seek this meeting. And it would also mean that ti would happen on her conditions. That was something he did not like at all. But it would have to do for now.

"It would be my pleasure, your grace," Tywin said.

She smiled pleasantly, before she turned around and began walking towards the gardens in a sedated pace. He joined her and walked next to her, as he waited for her to make her next move. Despite the circumstances, he was quite curious about her game.

"It has not escaped my attention that you have been quite persistent in your attempts to speak to me without my husband. So, here I am," Senna told him nonchalantly.

"I would have rather had this meeting in a more private place, your grace," Tywin replied stoically, "The sheep mustn't know everything about their betters or else they will forget that they are just sheep."

"This place is as private as it can get," Senna replied, "my men guard every entry to this garden and with the exception of my husband they will let absolutely no one enter. Not that most at court would want to come here when I am taking a stroll. Curiously enough those who have at least the semblance of an education fear me more than the countless wretches on the street, whose only solace is their faith."

"Caution is appropriate in this case, seeing as you have the power to destroy the whole city with a wave of your hand," he scolded her, as he would do with any child who would get drunk on power. He had to know just what was really behind that beautiful mask. He had to know whether the possibility of gaining her powers for House Lannister would be worth the risk or not…

And Senna… she laughed, much to his rising ire. His words had obviously amused her.

"Are you afraid of me, my lord?" she asked playfully. "You, the only man in the Seven Kingdoms who would dare to usurp my husband's authority while sitting right next to him."

"Only a fool would disregard such a threat. The dragon alone would have tipped the balance of power in the realm in your family's favor. But your powers, this magic, it will obliterate the old hierarchy entirely."

"And yet I have made no attempt to involve myself in the ruling of the realm. My concern are the people on the streets, not the lords who feast in their high halls."

"You would be well advised to cease your little charade while you can still step away with your dignity intact," Tywin cautioned her. "You may fool the lesser men, but not me. There is no power to gain from being loved by the people. You will never have them all love you and for ten who follow you blindly, one will hate you and pray for your demise. Only fear ensures that there is no threat to one's family."

She scoffed and shook her head, her face filled with displeasure, "Fear begets hatred. I have seen what you did with the people in my absence and let me tell you, their hatred for you unites them all. They will never forget what you had your men do to them."

"Good, then they will always remember the consequences of breaking the king's laws," Tywin replied curtly. "Laws that even bind you."

"Are you threatening me, Lord Tywin?"

"Not at all. I am merely educating you about the consequences of your foolishness."

He watched her, as she walked on in silence. It was hard to read her now, especially since she had increased her pace and was nearly two steps ahead of him. She wasn't fleeing, but he was sure that there was much anger in her that she didn't want him to see.

Suddenly she stopped dead and turned around to face him. "You presume much, Lord Tywin. You may consider me the king's foolish and uneducated wife from across the Narrow Sea. But seeing as we will likely share a grandchild one day, you will have time to learn about how wrong you have been with that assessment. Be sure to watch me very carefully, lest you might miss some important detail. I bid you a good day now, I have other matters to attend."

And with that she took off, followed by her guards. She walked with her head held high and a triumphant smirk on her lips. But all of that did not fool the lord of Casterly Rock. No, Tywin had gotten one answer to his many questions. The queen may not be foolish, nor ruthless, but she was naive and inexperienced in the game they call politics. He would be sure to remember this for their next meeting.

* * *

"No, no, no," he heard his wife say. His voice was filled with resoluteness. He had no need to see her, to know what face she was making at that moment.

And just as he had imagined, he found Senna arguing furiously with the Grand Maester. Pycelle looked equally agitated, though he did try to soothe the queen's rising temper.

"Your grace, I must ask you to abstain from this folly. Not in your condition..." Pycelle said.

This made Rhaegar both curious and worried. Was there something wrong with his wife? Another attack? Or poison? He prayed that she had not fallen sick. She had spent too many days out in the city, surrounded by the common folk and all their troubles. Her knights had been on the edge at all times. They had only served her for one month and yet they have already seen most of the insanity that is Queen Senna Peverell.

"What is going on here?" Rhaegar demanded, as he fully revealed his presence.

"Your grace," the Grand Maester said, as he bowed deeply.

The two knights, who watched the scene from a nearby corner did the same. Only Senna and her Myrish guards remained as they were.

"Is there anything I should be made aware of?" Rhaegar asked again.

"It is only..."

"The Grand Maester is of the opinion that I am with child. I only came here to humor Elia who was concerned about my health, but this man is jumping to conclusions without any proof," Senna said, her voice showing her exasperation.

"Is there no spell to know for sure?" Rhaegar asked her, "Surely your magic can help here to give you a clear answer?"

At times he wondered if there was anything she couldn't do. Her magic was so otherworldly, so powerful. He had seen her use it to dispatch of an attacker, he had seen her change the debris of the destroyed houses into building materials with a flick of her hands. Only her stamina seemed to limit her power. Surely her magic was also able to do something like this.

"There are such spells, yes. But I am not a healer. A potioneer, an alchemist, maybe. But I have never learned this branch of magic. It is too complicated and too dangerous without guidance," Senna replied evenly.

There was a sadness in her eyes as she said this. Rhaegar was sure that he was the only one who had seen it and he would ask her about this later. But for now there was the bigger issue he had to deal with

"But your grace, the signs are all there," Pycelle tried to reason with Senna again. But she made no secret of her dislike for Measters in general and so the man had a hard time convincing her. So Pycelle turned to Rhaegar instead.

"My king, please speak to your wife. She hasn't bled in nearly two months and she has suffered from sickness in the morning for many days now. All the signs are there, so she will need to act now to protect the queen's health and that of her unborn child."

Rhaegar took a moment to fully register what the man had said. Unlike Senna he had full trust in the Grand Maester's abilities. The man had served his family well and always been right when it came to his mother's pregnancies. He had done all he could and the premature death of most of his siblings was not the man's fault.

"Please leave us," Rhaegar said. It was clear enough that everyone was meant. Senna's own guards waited for her sign to leave as well.

A few moments later, he was alone with his wife.

"He may be right, you know," Rhaegar told her, "Grand Maester Pycelle is quite knowledgeable when it comes to such things."

"He presumes to know things. But how can he be so sure?" Senna asked back, "All I have seen from these Maesters is superstitious guesswork. They monopolize knowledge to make themselves seemingly indispensable, yet they act like fools at times. Pycelle, especially, has his own little schemes and..."

"Senna," Rhaegar interrupted her, "Maybe you are just too paranoid here. Yes, there are enemies lurking in every shadow, but Pycelle has served my family faithfully."

"Rhaegar..."

"Is it really Pycelle, who bothers you so much or is there something else?"

"Maybe… maybe I am with child. Maybe not. But if I am, my enemies will only increase their efforts now. I don't want anyone to know if it is true, but this fool has already spread the word, no doubt about it."

There was a lot of fear in her quivering voice, more than he would have expected. She had been so eager to start a family of her own, but now that they may have succeeded, she only saw the dangers her child would have to face.

He embraced her tightly and whispered in her ear, "None of us will ever be truly save. But with us and the loyal knights of the realm, our child will have the best protection in the known world. I will not allow for any of us to come to harm."

"If anyone tries to harm our child, I will destroy that person and all who are involved. No matter if they are assassins, knights, lords, or even kings," Senna vowed.

"Of that I'm sure," Rhaegar replied with a chuckle.

They remained in their embrace for a little longer, before she eventually pushed him away.

"So, is now the time to think about a possible name?" she asked him, her voice laced with mirth now.

"You know my wish," he replied with a chuckle.

"Not Aegon," she looked darkly at him.

"Well, it is the husband's prerogative to name the children," he retorted.

"And you would only have this pleasure once. We decide together or the burden to raise the numbers of your family will fall to Viserys alone," she threatened lightly.

He knew that she wasn't serious, but if she was so opposed against Aegon, he wouldn't force the issue. There were plenty of other names to choose from.

"So, how about Daeron?" He asked, "I have recently revised some of the earlier treaties with Dorne, made during the rule of Daeron II. He would be a good example to live up to for our son."

"I am sure that the Martells would like that," she laughed. "But what about my suggestion? Aerion is a good name as well. And the name is important to both of our families."

"True… but the last Aerion had been a known madman," Rhaegar said cautiously. "I would rather give our firstborn a name that has… less bad memories attached to it. Aerion would be the first choice for a second son."

She didn't answer immediately. Instead, she began pacing through the room.

"This is… I don't know… so Daeron?"

"It would be a good choice," Rhaegar confirmed.

"And if it is a girl?" Senna asked.

"Alysanne," Rhaegar replied immediately. After her reaction to the name Aegon, it was easy to guess that she might be against Rhaenys and Visenya as well.

"Alysanne," Senna repeated, "I like it. I would have liked Elaena, but considering the history of House Targaryen that name is better."

"There may be more than one daughter," Rhaegar said with a chuckle.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Senna said. "So Daeron for a boy and Alysanne for a girl."

Rhaegar felt rather happy now. More than he had in a long time. Soon there would be another child in the family. A child of his own. A huge leap in the right direction to prevent the decline of his family. And the proof for the whole realm that Senna is his queen. The only queen he would ever need. The only queen he would ever want...


	16. Threat

She sat in the nursery, alone with the children, who played at her feet, as she read in one of the older tomes she had managed to procure from a visiting Volantene merchant. Well, it was mostly Viserys playing, as the other children were too small to join him yet. But that did not seem to deter the boy in the slightest.

Every once in a while, she looked up from her book to see the children, before her attention solely returned to the tome. Valyrian history, stories collected by the old blood of Volantis. Praises of the greatest deeds of their perceived ancestors. To her, it sounded all the same. It was almost like the stories from the history lessons in her first life. A whole load of horse shit. The entire book was about as truthful as Lockhart's entire works, which meant about not at all.

Suddenly the sounds of the playing children ceased entirely and she was immediately on high alert. She looked for them, only to see them where they had been before… only now they seemed frozen as if time itself had stopped.

"Ah, what a heartwarming sight. Playing children, a beautiful mother to watch over them and peace and prosperity for all the land. Just looking at it makes me want to puke my guts out. I have to watch another genocide to feel normal after this..."

Death's haggard apparition appeared next to her. Just like the last time, the bane of her existence looked like some fairy tale villain, a bony creature with black flames instead of eyes and bones protruding from rotting flesh, hidden beneath a ripped black robe.

"What are you doing here?" Senna demanded to know.

"I'm merely checking up on you. And not too soon, I see," Death muttered. "Peace and happiness. Just why has my mistress become this pathetic? It's even worse than your later years with the annoying redhead."

"Well too bad for you that I try to have a better life for once. I still have plenty of enemies, but I won't ever follow Cassandra's path ever again," Senna retorted. She did not comment on Death's quip about her life as Harry and his marriage with Ginny. She still remembered the quiet life she had back then. It was a happier time than the two lives that followed. But she would regain this happiness and if it was the last thing she would do.

"I can see why you humans need to procreate, no complaints about that. It would be so utterly boring if your race would suddenly cease to exist. Your belligerent nature has been my greatest joy," Death commented, "But I want more death. More fire and more blood. Pah, maybe I should have given you some of your former companions. At least they caused you just as much trouble as you cause me."

"Fire and blood, you would have had a great time with the Mad King as your master," she muttered, not commenting on the rest of his statement. It would have been both wonderful and awkward, had some of her old friends and family been allowed to follow her to this world. But Death only made one exception for these constant rebirths in different worlds...

Death chuckled darkly in return, "Oh, but I have. He is such a delightful person. Always screaming, always yearning for the deaths of his enemies. Sadly your husband has inherited none of his father's wrath. Such a shame."

"What do you want?" Senna asked, her voice strained as she tried to remain cordial. But she entirely disliked where this conversation was going.

"What I want… I want to see you fight. I want death and carnage. Those pesky cultists are doing their job keeping you on your toes, but they are merely a symptom of the disease. Never forget that loveable little prophecy of your ancestors. The true test still waits. And if you value this little family you want to build, you better not keep it waiting," Death said, his dark chuckled evolving into full blown laughter as he vanished before her eyes.

She looked in shock at where Death had stood only moments before. She knew that Death hardly ever made empty threats. But what was the meaning behind this? She was well aware that there are still those who control the cultists. She was well on her way to bring them down… but Death's words alluded to something much bigger than a cult… something much more dangerous. And it would come for her family if she did not face it herself. Oh, how she hates prophecies…

Moments later, she woke up from her ruined dream, the feeling of dread never leaving her…

* * *

"Robert, stop grumbling all day," Cassana Estermont chided her son.

They were in the Baratheon mansion in King's Landing, which Lord Steffon had bought after his appointment on the Small Council.

"Why do I have to stay here? I should have gone with Ned, to help him. But father and Lord Arryn demand that I stay here," Robert cursed loudly, as he paced through the room.

"I can understand your worries. Lord Stark's sudden disappearance has come as a shock to us all, but you are needed here. Your father and Lord Arryn agree that it is better for you to stay here, where you can aid the queen."

"As if Senna needs me. She can crush people with a flick of her wrist," Robert protested, "But something is happening in the North and it doesn't sit right with me that Ned has to go and face it all on his own."

His mother shook her head, as she heard his reply. Her face clearly showed her disapproval, though he wasn't sure whether the cause was his stubbornness or his callous use of the queen's given name. Though both his parents approved of his continued association with the queen, they often warned him to avoid getting too close, lest rumors might start that would hurt both of their reputations. He could only scoff at that. As if anyone who had seen them together would ever get the wrong idea. Seven Hells, they bicker and argue all the time...

"Your father has strict..."

"Father has what, mother?" Robert asked critically, "So far father has avoided telling me anything about his plans. He always sits with the old Lannister until late at night and plots."

"Your father is only doing what he thinks is best for the realm," his mother said defensively, "He and Lord Tywin are working together for a better future for all of us. I only wish the king would put more trust in them sometimes. They say that he has joined forces with the Lords Tyrell and Arryn, but why he excludes your father from his trust is beyond me."

A servant suddenly stormed into the room with a worried look on his face. It had happened so suddenly and unexpected, that Robert had drawn his sword to defend himself and his mother, in case it was an attack. Only when he recognized the man, he slowly lowered his weapon.

"Milady," the servant exclaimed, "the young lady is gone. She hasn't been present when her tutor arrived and when we were looking for her, we couldn't find her in her rooms or anywhere else."

Robert frowned as he heard this. Though the servant hadn't said the name, it was clear that he was speaking about Lyanna Stark, his betrothed. There was no other young lady in the care of House Baratheon at the moment. But to hear that she has disappeared was worrying.

"This shouldn't be possible. I have given orders that Lady Lyanna should not be left alone at any given moment," Cassana exclaimed in worry, "We must find her. She was most distraught after her brother had left. I fear she might do something foolish in her current condition."

"Let me, mother. I will find Lyanna!" Robert said quickly. Maybe this was his chance. If she somehow managed to get out of the city without being seen, he could follow her north. Protecting her on her way home would be the perfect way to win her over. And it would give him an excuse to follow Ned.

"Be careful, Robert, Lyanna is rather… emotional at the moment," his mother cautioned him before he quickly left.

* * *

He had to duck when he first entered his chambers that evening. He had expected much, but when he saw his wife, sitting on the ground surrounded by scrolls and books, with stones and trinkets flying around her in circles, he could not keep in the noises of awe.

"Oh, you are back early," Senna commented, as she looked up from her work.

"What are you doing?" he asked her curiously, as he narrowly avoided getting hit by yet another floating stone.

It was such a wondrous sight. She looked so innocent, as she sat there on the floor. It looked as if she was playing with all the things floating around her. And she looked so relaxed, so at home when she was surrounded by her magic, that he wouldn't ever want to see her any other way. It only made him realize what strain hiding her true nature had put on her.

"I can no longer in good conscience allow that our enemies do whatever they want in the keep and the city. So I will try something I haven't done in a long time. I will try to erect wards." Senna told him, her eyes still focused on the scroll before her. "But I have to admit, it is much more difficult than I remember."

"Is it dangerous?" Rhaegar asked.

"Not if it is done right. I am sure I can do it, if not for the whole city then at least for all the places the children occupy."

"So you can do it properly?" He asked again. He didn't want to doubt her, but he had seen how destructive her magic can be. And if there was even the slightest chance that this could go wrong…

"I learned it from these scrolls. I tested the spells and runes during my short stay on Elyria with… varying success. I may be unable to create wards that can destroy and enemy, but I can create those wards that warn me, should someone with ill intentions enter a certain area. Maybe I can even keep people out of certain rooms and buildings entirely," she said.

He wasn't sure what he was supposed to reply. The mere idea that her magic could kill people simply when they enter a certain room… that was frightening. It would have been something his father would have enjoyed. He would have had her cast it around his throne, so he could order every lord in his kingdom to stand before him and prove his loyalty… needless to say that most would not have survived this test of faith.

"Rhaegar," Senna called out to him when he didn't answer. "What's going on in your head right now?"

"I am worried," he confessed, "Worried about you, about our children, about the entire realm. For every problem, I solve there are a hundred new ones coming to haunt me. And at every step my own council is bickering, fighting about every damn issue as if it means the world to them."

She abandoned her work for a moment and stood up. She came to him, embraced him and kissed his cheek lovingly. "Together will triumph. Even if we have to prevail against every man and woman in this realm and all the others."

"Your belly has finally begun to swell," he replied, as he felt her pressing against him.

"It was about time. Now there is no denying it, in a few more months you will be a father," she smiled at him, "It will be a boy, I'm sure of it," she said softly.

"How do you know?"

"Call it a mother's intuition," she laughed lightly.

A son. It would be a reason for joy. The whole realm would celebrate the birth of an heir. It would give the people some hope and stability to know that the succession would be secure. The people are so afraid that a war might come, in the midst of the winter that already demands so much of them.

"And I can feel it. Our son will have my powers. I can feel it in him, even this early. He will be strong," Senna told him further.

This, though, worried him greatly, "No one must know this. I want the people to believe that your powers are not hereditary," It would be safer for the child. At least their firstborn would have this kind of protection for some time. Men already whispered treason at the mere mention of Targaryen king's with the queen's powers. Dragons and magic, House Targaryen would be the undisputed power in the whole realm.

But Senna sighed as she heard this. "And once Daeron gets older you want him to learn in secret, to act in secret and live a lie? I have done that for nearly my entire life, Rhaegar. It has nearly torn me apart."

"He will have to be as strong as his mother then. As long as people don't know that he has your magic, they will act differently. It is too much of an advantage to reveal it for merely personal reasons," he told her.

Senna suddenly pushed him away, a cold look on her face. She walked away from him, back to her work, where she sat down once more.

"I know why you say this, Rhaegar. But remember this. To this day I curse my father's name for his decision to keep my magic a secret. The first few years of my life had been miserable and lonely, asking myself why my parents didn't like what I can do. Why did they keep me away from other children? Why did I have to be lonely, with slaves as my sole companions? Only after my parents' deaths I had been allowed to be what I am and even then I had to hide the full extent of what I am. I hid more than I showed. Force our children to hide their true selves and they will hate you. It is not a threat, but a promise," she told him coldly.

"Senna..." he sighed, as he took a step towards her.

"Don't… I understand. I know your reasons and they are sound. You only want to keep them safe, just as I do... but sometimes the clever thing to do is what slowly kills us from inside. Daeron will not have an easy life because of this… because of me. But I will do all I can to ease his burden."

"As will I," Rhaegar vowed.

"Good… but now… please leave me alone. I've got work to do," she said, her voice still cold and her face devoid of the smile she had shown him before.

With one last weary look at his wife he left the room once more. He had only come to check up on her after she hadn't been seen all day and now his duties would demand his full attention again. But her words would be on his mind for a long time to come.

* * *

"Have you found any trace?" Brandon asked the rangers, as they all met at the old Godswood north of the Wall.

Against the Lord Commander's counsel and warning, Brandon had left for the wilderness himself, followed by two dozen rangers, who had volunteered to help him. The rangers were almost exclusively men who had been born and raised in the North, so they saw it as their duty to find their lord, even though their oaths now only bound them to the Nightswatch.

"Nothing yet, milord," one of the rangers replied.

"Mance is still missing. Maybe he has found something," another said.

But even as they waited, the last of their group remained missing. So with no other choice except waiting in the cold for the man's return, they chose to search for him in the wilds.

Luckily it had been a calm and sunny day, so they soon found the traces of Mance's path through the darkening forest. The ranger had obviously gotten much further than any of the others and Brandon's group was forced to follow the trail for more than an hour before they heard the sound of fighting.

They quickly rushed forward, to help Mance, should he be in need of it. But none of them had expected the gruesome scene they soon happened upon.

It had truly been Mance who had been fighting. Two wildlings had attacked him, though their fight had obviously not gone as planned. One of the wildlings was face down on the ground, his blood slowly staining the snow beneath him in a deep crimson color. The other, a woman, was wounded as well, but not in any threatening way. She sat on the ground, Mance's sword only inches from her neck as he barked questions on her.

But Brandon couldn't focus on the interrogation, his eyes were drawn towards the large tree behind them instead. It was another heart tree, even bigger than the one in godswood they had left an hour before. But the tree had been desecrated. Deep gashed marred the face-like appearance of the tree and a horse-head had been stuffed into the gap that would have been the mouth.

"By the gods, who would do such a thing," one of the rangers asked, as they approached the tree.

"Milord," Mance called out to Brandon, "This woman claims that she and her companion had found this place in this state only moments before I had arrived. She has no knowledge about who might have done this."

"The wildlings believe in the Old Gods, just as we do. They wouldn't desecrate a holy place like this," the rangers all nodded in agreement as one of them said this.

"But who else could have done this? None of our patrols venture this far north and even if they had, why would they do this," Mance questioned, "Not to mention that the horse-head is still not fully frozen, so it hasn't been here for long. The only men of the Nightswatch north of the Wall at the moment are us."

Brandon meanwhile inspected the head. It had been a black destrier. Parts of its reins were still attached… and he recognized both the horse and the reins. He had bought this horse himself when he returned from the royal wedding. It had been a gift for his father…

"Fan out and search the area. This had been my father's horse. There may be something here that can tell us where he went," Brandon ordered.

"And the wildling?"

"Mance, you captured her. What would you have us do with the woman?" Brandon asked. In truth, he didn't really care about what happens to her. This squat and ugly creature was of no importance to him. So he left the decision to Mance.

"She may be useful, milord. She knows the land here better than us," Mance argued.

"Yes, good enough to slit our throats first chance she gets," one of the rangers muttered.

But Mance remained undeterred, "She could be useful. More use than harm at least."

"Then keep her under watch. You are responsible for her now," Brandon commanded, before he walked away, to find any more signs of his father.

Mance meanwhile put away his sword and helped the woman up. "Don't take this the wrong way, but this is just as much for your protection as ours," he said, as he tied her hands together with the girdle of her dead companion. "What is your name? You have one, don't you?"

"Harma," she replied derisively.

"Well then,Harma, welcome on the path to darkness. I fear in few days you will wish that I had killed you instead. Or maybe I will wish you had killed me, I don't know," Mance said with a sigh, before he followed his comrades, pulling his prisoner behind him.

* * *

It was late at night when she slowly made her way through the nearly empty streets of King's Landing's noble quarters. Mansions lined the street left and right, homes of nobles and rich merchants, men and women left untouched by the hardships of the winter.

But that wasn't why Senna had come here, hidden underneath several layers of glamors and other charms to hide her true identity. No, she was here to seek justice.

She knew that what she was doing was risky, especially since she was all alone this time. But she had to do this. It could possibly cripple the cultists in the capital and give her some peace until her child was born.

She knew that she would have to face other consequences for her actions as well. Rhaegar would have never allowed her to go, not while she is four months pregnant with their first child. So she had waited for him to fall asleep before she had snuck out. At first, she had even considered the use of a small sleeping potion but ultimately shied away from this kind of deceit. He would never trust her again after something like that, so she would rather risk getting caught upon return. Oh, she knew that he would be furious, but it had to be done.

She quelled any remaining thoughts of turning back and ventured on until she had reached a large mansion, guarded by a large number of well-paid thugs. She could easily recognize a Tyroshi when she saw one, even when they did not color their hair in obnoxious colors. Even clad in the armor and colors of a Westerosi noble house, they would stick out like a sore thumb. But they were obviously not here to fool anyone, but rather to send a message to all who would understand. These thugs were here to kill whoever was foolish enough to threaten their employer. They care for nothing but gold.

She cast another spell on herself, one to make herself unnoticeable before she walked towards one of the narrow alleys next to the mansion's large walls. She sighs in relief when she found the alley abandoned.

With all entrances well guarded, she would have to make a new entrance by herself. So she transfigured the wall into an archway, that would allow her undisturbed access. Another flicker of magic and her entrance was gone once more as if there had never been a large whole in the wall.

Satisfied with her unnoticed intrusion, she quickly moved towards the mansion itself. Just like outside, armed thugs were patrolling here as well. By now she had already counted sixteen Tyroshi mercenaries, quite the costly guard detail. And a most unusual one, considering that the man who lived in the mansion was neither very rich, nor powerful, nor important at all. He was only a second son, who had not inherited anything upon his father's death and only lived in the mansion at his own brother's discretion.

She dared not to create another entrance like she had done with the wall, as she was sure that there would be too many people inside the mansion for such an action to remain unnoticed. So instead she searched for a servant entrance at the back of the building, away from the guards. A patrol passed by without seeing her before she slowly opened the door and snuck inside.

The work area and kitchens were as sparsely decorated as she would have expected. Practical, but not designed for those working there to feel good or happy. When she entered the living area of the mansion, she saw exactly where all the money for the construction had gone to. Lavishly decorated rooms, with statues and foreign plants, richly colored drapes made out of expensive silk everywhere and the sigil of the noble family made entirely out of gold. It was almost as bad as the Red Keep itself, only in a much smaller scale.

To her surprise, the first floor was almost entirely abandoned. She only saw two servants, who followed their duties to clean even late at night. But no guards. As if all the paid thugs had been stationed outside. Senna smirked, as this would make her task easier. But she knew that she couldn't afford to be careless either way.

So she slowly proceeded up a flight of stairs to the upper levels, where the study and personal rooms of the lord were likely to be. And there she found much more commotion than downstairs. Inadvertently she had come to crash a party. And she did not even feel the slightest bit guilty about it.

The study was still ablaze with light and she dared to have a look inside, she saw four men, though only one was dressed like a noble. The others were mercenaries by the looks of it.

"We had a deal, Rosby. We got you the weapons, but you failed to cough the coins we were promised up," one of the mercenaries yelled.

"Your men failed to deliver," Rosby answered snappishly, "You get paid once that whore is no longer a threat to our master. Not one moment earlier."

The mercenaries seemed angry as they heard this. Senna could see how most of them reached for their weapons. A foolish thing to do, but she had seen enough of the Tyroshi to know that had never been the sharpest tools in the shed. They would even kill their employer out of a mood, only to end up without any pay.

"That monster cannot be killed. The Peverells have always been notorious for their power. Took nearly a thousand of us before nearly all of their men had been killed off. But this woman… I will not waste any more men on this foolish task, Rosby."

"Are you afraid of a little girl? She may have powers, but she is not immortal. And now that she is about to spawn even more little monsters she is even more vulnerable than ever before," Rosby told the men scathingly.

Senna meanwhile had to keep her own emotions in check, as she heard how this bastard dared to talk about her and her unborn child. But she knew that the man would soon see the error in his ways.

"Well, maybe you want to send more of your little slaves then," the mercenary griped.

"The master's orders were that your men should kill the queen, not his mindless minions."

"Pay us now or we will burn this house to the ground with you and everyone else in it," the mercenary threatened, as he lost his patience.

Senna knew that there would nothing more to learn from eavesdropping, so she decided that it was time to go on the offensive in her little war against this cult.

So she entered the room as silently as possible before she quickly dispatched of the mercenaries around Rosby. They were so surprised by her sudden appearance, that they barely had the time to draw their swords before her curses cut them down where they stood.

"Good evening, Lord Rosby," Senna said, as she slowly walked further into the room and dropped the charm that made her unnoticeable. "I believe you and I have some unfinished business here."

"Who are you?" the man asked angrily, "Do you serve the master as well? Has he sent you to get rid of these dimwitted imbeciles?"

Senna chuckled, as she got closer. "I fear that you misunderstand the situation you are in. You see, I am not here to help you. And your master will soon follow you into whatever hell you have crawled out of."

Rosby was shocked by her statement and quickly dashed towards his desk, where a small dagger had been. Senna actually chuckled when she saw how he believed that this pathetic little weapon would save him now.

"Who are you then? Are you a servant of that monster?" Rosby asked again, "You have the same powers as she does… you are a monster like the queen!"

"Monster is a very bad word, Rosby. We prefer the word witch. But enough with you questions, now it's my turn," Senna said, as she ripped the dagger from his hands with a summoning spell. "You see, the queen is very unhappy about your petty attempts to kill her and she has lost all patience with your kind. Dumb and ugly, you really pollute the city with your very presence."

"How dare you mock me like this, monster?"

"Well, how do you want me to mock you? I take requests, you know," she replied with a cold smirk.

"You monsters will destroy us all. It is just like the master has said! The queen will ruin the entire realm," Rosby yelled.

Senna shook her head, as she realized that this man was even more useless than the last she had caught. At least the last one had led her here, to one of the main funders of the cult. At the very least she got one of their leaders within the city. Without a noble to back them, the cultists would suffer a serious blow.

"I don't know why you allowed yourself to become so blinded, but I also don't really care anymore. When you killed Rhaella I vowed to myself that I would hunt all of you down. No mercy, no chance for redemption this time. Some people just can't be saved," she said.

Dumbledore's teachings often came to mind. Even though she had learned to understand his intentions later in her first life, she never fully agreed with his idea of compassion. Her rejection of the old man's teachings had even reached its heights during her second life when she gave up on her humanity for the sake of power… And now, in her third life, she tried to find the middle ground. But redemption for these men was not a part of it.

"You too will face divine judgment, just like the queen. The master will destroy you all in the name of the Seven," Rosby spat.

"The Seven..." she muttered in return. Religious fanaticism. It would seem that she wasn't the only one to use this to her own advantage. "I never saw much use in this faith. But fire… I have learned to like fire." And before Rosby could say anything, she cast Fiendfyre and set him and the entire room on fire.

Death's dark laughter echoed in her mind as she watched Rosby burn. Of course, he would enjoy this, just like Aerys would have. The mere thought that she had acted in a manner that this man would have approved off sickened her. But there was no regret. For the safety of her child, she would endure all the consequences of her actions.

One last look was all she spared the dead man, as the fire consumed his remains before she apparated away. She arrived in her personal quarters in the keep, not the rooms she shares with her husband. But after the emotional turmoil and the magic she had used, she felt drained. She had almost forgotten how unstable a pregnancy can make the magic of a witch... All the charms she had used to hide her identity dropped and she barely made it back to her bed, before she fell asleep in an instant.

* * *

When Rhaegar awoke the next morning, he immediately felt that something was amiss. It was early, just before sunrise, but his wife was not next to him in their bed. She was nowhere else in their quarters either. And the moment he stepped out of his rooms to search for her, he was immediately accosted by a servant, who had been sent by Tywin Lannister.

Another fire had started in the city, this time not in Flea Bottom, but in the heart of the upper district, where only the wealthy and noble could afford to live. A whole mansion had burnt down and the men had barely managed to contain the fire.

By then he already knew that this would be one of those insufferable days. The days when he would have to pick up the pieces of other people's actions. And no matter how much he tried to convince himself of the opposite, he knew that Senna was likely involved in whatever had started the fire.

And now a council meeting awaited him, one that he was not looking forward to. But first, he had to find Senna. Both for the peace of his mind and to find out just how far she was involved in this mess. Not that he would ever mention to anyone that she started a fire in the city… if she was really the cause of it…

But much to his relief, finding her was not as hard as he had expected. Her handmaidens obviously knew their mistress better than anyone else and found her quickly. And they had wasted no time to organize a group of guards for the rooms she was staying in.

And so he found his wife in the rooms that she had occupied before they had begun to share their bed every night. Three knights and a dozen guards were already standing guard outside, by the time he had arrived. He paid them little heed and entered the room, where he found Senna's handmaidens preparing a bath. Senna, though, was still on her bed, sleeping soundly.

Unsurprisingly, but none the less shockingly, she was not dressed in her nightclothes, but rather a mixture of robes and burnished leather armor. It left little doubt that his wife had been out at night. Despite the risk for their unborn child. He knew that she would not have done anything if the child had been at any risk, but she had still been unbelievably reckless…

He approached her bedside and knelt down next to her. He caressed her cheek gently, but firmly enough for her to wake up. Her eyes fluttered open and stared into his.

A weak smile spread on her lips, as she said, "So… in how much trouble am I this time?"

She sounded like a child that had been caught after being naughty and Rhaegar would have even found it adorable, had her actions not been so severe and infuriating.

"It depends," he told her calmly, "You wouldn't know anything about a fire in this city? One that has destroyed a whole mansion."

"So it burned to the ground? Good. I hope that some more of the cultists had been inside when it happened. But I was too tired after dealing with Rosby to check," she replied before she yawned.

Rhaegar needed a moment to fully grasp the meaning of what she had just admitted to. Time Senna used to get out of bed and disrobe. He watched in silence as she stepped into the prepared bathtub, one of her hands resting on her swollen belly. After four, nearly five months even the greatest naysayers couldn't deny that she was with child. Some, though, still whisper that it isn't his, but rather the child of some Myrish paramour she had seen during her stay abroad. Rhaegar didn't even deign these claims worthy of a comment.

"What have you done, Senna?"

She looked at him strangely, before she sighed and answered, "In your words, I have been extremely irresponsible and taken a far too big risk. In my words, I have dealt with the threat to our unborn child in a permanent manner."

"By burning a mansion to the ground?"

"By burning the mansion of the man who had supported and enabled the cultists to attack our family. It would seem that Lord Rosby's younger brother was a true enemy of the crown. I have put an end to the threat he had posed."

Rosby… that was a name he had not really expected to hear in connection the cultists. Gyles Rosby, who had only recently taken over his father's lordship, was a very outspoken supporter of the Targaryen family. Some would even say that he was quite eager to appear in a favorable light.

"Did you have any proof of his crimes," Rhaegar asked his wife carefully.

"I had the testimony of a cultist and caught the fools red-handed as they planned to kill me and our child," Senna told him.

His eyes narrowed as he heard this. Senna wouldn't lie about such a thing. This wasn't a laughing matter. Not to her, not to him. But the repercussions of this… The Rosbys are among the most important families in the Crownlands, trusted servants of the crown since the days of Aegon the Conqueror. But this was damning…

"But you had no witness for any of this," Rhaegar muttered. This would make things rather difficult in the council. Maybe it would be better to keep Senna involvement in the fire a secret. "No one has seen you, right?"

"Do you think I am some fool who just waltzes into a highly protected building, throwing spells and creating chaos just to do something extremely irresponsible?"

"You do not expect me to answer this questions..." Rhaegar muttered.

She huffed, "No, Rhaegar. No one saw me there and even if they had the chance to catch a glimpse they would be looking for a dark haired woman that is at least a head smaller than me."

"Good. Please tell no one about what has happened tonight. Not even your own men. If anyone finds out that the queen has killed the younger brother of one of my vassals, the number of your enemies at court will only increase. You really don't need any more enemies right now," Rhaegar was truly worried. He knew that Senna had begun to make progress among the ladies at court. Even some of the lesser lords had begun to see her in a more favorable light… but actions like this could just as well isolate her at court. And he had neither the time nor the endurance to fight both his and her battles.

"We will see some more peace now, my love," Senna promised him, "With Rosby gone, the cultists are in disarray. I hope that this will buy me enough time until our child is born. Then I will be able to unleash the full extent of my fury on these fools once more. Until then… well, let's just say that having a baby inside of you is not helping with stabilizing your magic. I spare you the more complicated details..."

"Just be careful, Senna. I couldn't bear losing you and our child," Rhaegar told her.

He approached her bathtub and knelt down next to it, so he was on the same level with her. He kissed her gently before he got back up.

"I have to leave now. Please don't start another fire today. Dealing with this one will be enough of a headache already," Rhaegar chuckled lightly, as he saw the playful smirk on her face. "I will be in the council chamber if you need me."

"Rhaegar," she said softly. She waited for him to turn around once more, before she continued, "Try to take some breaks in between. Maybe we can eat something together. An early dinner would be nice, don't you think?"

"I will try, Senna. But I cannot make any promises. There is too much work to be done and too few hours in a day to do them," he sighed wearily. Then he left her alone to do what he had to. His duty as the king… He already knew this would one of the days when he would hate his crown and all the duties that have come with it…

* * *

"So, how was your time in Starfall," Senna asked, as she and most of her ladies sat together for a small snack in the afternoon.

Ashara smiled brightly, as she began to talk, "It was wonderful. I finally got to meet my brother's betrothed. She was a bit shy at first but she is such a sweet person. I can't wait to be an aunt," the girl gushed.

Senna laughed lightly as she saw Ashara's enthusiasm. She had missed this. In the weeks after the skirmish in the streets, she had seen how the danger and stress had begun to diminish the girl's spirit, so she had done the one thing that always cheered her up. She had sent Ashara home for some time.

Though the girl had never mentioned it, Senna had seen how homesick she had been at times. So she had sent Ashara back to Starfall. With the time on the road, the girl had been gone for almost three months before Ashara hurried back to her queen's side.

"I am happy to see that this time in Dorne had been good to you," Elia said calmly. "Your happiness is almost infectious."

"But I am glad to be back," Ashara replied, "So what have I missed?"

"Not that much," Senna told her, "The construction of the new bathhouse in the city is going slower than I had hoped. This darn winter makes everything harder. Not to mention that I have yet to choose some people to teach the healing techniques and potions. It is hard to find volunteers when most people are still wary of your power."

"In time they will love you even more for what you try to do for them," Elia assured Senna.

Senna didn't reply to this. Unlike Elia, she wasn't so sure about this. The people here were so superstitious and generally distrustful of everything they don't understand. Worse yet, the High Septon and his cronies still spew their ideology that denounces her powers as an affront to the Seven. Rhaegar had already reprimanded the High Septon twice because of this, but the man obviously saw it as his holy duty to warn as many people as possible to fear the foreign witch.

"And how is the baby?" Ashara asked eagerly.

Suddenly the eyes of all women in the room rested on Senna's swollen belly. She instinctively placed her hands over her baby bump and smiled fondly.

"Everything is going fine, Ashara. I am near the end of the sixth month now, so it will be a little while longer, but the baby is strong and healthy. He likes to kick me lately…"

"Really? You already know that it will be a boy?"

"Yes," Senna admitted, "Call it a mother's intuition, but I am sure that it will be a boy. Rhaegar is extremely happy about it as well. Not that he would be disappointed if it is a girl, but a son would ease a lot of his worries and shut up a lot of his doubters."

One of Senna's handmaidens entered with a grim but dedicated look on her face. Senna almost had to laugh as she saw Lanna like this. Both she and Alia had become rather obsessed with their queen's well-being, especially after the repeated attempts on Senna's life. And so they carried out each and every task Senna gave them. Unflinchingly, unquestioningly. Even those they obviously disagreed with. Like the one she had sent Lanna on only an hour before.

"Your grace, I have brought Lady Cersei, just as you have asked of me," Lanna said.

Both Ashara and Elia looked questioningly at their queen, clearly surprised by this. It was no secret at court that Cersei Lannister fancied herself as the one to who would save their poor king from the clutches of the foreigner his father had forced on him. So they were obviously confused why Senna would invite this woman to their gathering.

"Thank you, Lanna. Please let her in," Senna said, "And have the servants bring food and drink for her as well. She will stay for a while." The handmaiden bowed and quickly followed her given task.

Then she entered. Cersei Lannister. Every bit as beautiful as she was spiteful and presumptuous. Senna actually had to force herself not to chuckle, when this girl reminded her of a certain childhood nemesis from a former life. A child so utterly self-assured because of the father's power and wealth… oh well, she would have to teach Cersei a thing or two about what power really is.

"Cersei, how good of you to join us today," Senna greeted the girl like she would have done for a friend. It disturbed not just the young Lannister, but everyone else as well. But it was just what Senna had intended.

"Your grace," Cersei curtsied, as expected of her in such a situation. "I want to thank you for this..."

"No. No thanks are necessary," Senna assured the girl, "Come, sit with us."

She leads Cersei over to the table where Elia and Ashara sat. Both Dornish women could only look with undisguised curiosity and surprise, as Senna treated her worst headache in the keep like a long time friend and confidant. But Elia soon adopted a more pensive expression, as she realized what Senna was planning.

"Isn't this nice," Senna asked, "All of us here together. We should have done this long ago."

"Of course, your grace," Cersei replied cordially, as she forced a smile on her lips. "I have waited a long time for your invitation."

Senna mock sighed and shook her head, "I am aware that I haven't been the most attentive queen so far. My intention is to rectify this now, my dear. Our meeting should have happened a year ago before I visited Dragonstone."

For a moment no one spoke, as none of the women present knew what to answer to this. Ashara was still confused, but sly enough not to question her queen in the presence of an outsider. And Cersei, the young Lannister watched carefully, as she tried to figure out Senna's plan.

As they sat in silence, the servants entered once more and brought more food and drinks. Senna was the first to eat some of the fruits before she took a goblet and filled it with water.

"Try it, the food is good and the fruits are still fresh. They have arrived just this morning with the merchants from Myr," Senna encouraged.

Cersei reluctantly took some of the offered food and ate it as graciously as her upbringing and distrust of the queen's motives allowed her to. Senna had to smile as she realized that Cersei must have expected the food to be poisoned or something of the like. After all, the rumors were quite clear about the queen's deranged mind and cruel paranoia…

"Cersei, I've been thinking for some time now. I have decided to add some more friends to my ladies-in-waiting. Some people with the right knowledge and status to serve the realm at their queen's side. So what would you say if I ask you to be a friend of mine and not some rival?"

"I… would be honored," Cersei replied, albeit with great reluctance.

Senna had heard that this girl is quite shrewd. Something she must have learned from her father, no doubt. And even now she could see the gears turning in the girl's head, as she considered the advantages and disadvantages of declining this almost preposterous offer.

Senna just smirked, before she raised her cup to drink. But before the liquid could touch her lips, the doors of the room flew open and Mina stormed in, followed by Ser Garth.

"No, don't. You mustn't drink the water, your grace," Mina exclaimed loudly, as the knight grabbed her and held her back.

Senna meanwhile looked at the liquid in suspicion, before she sat the cup down on the table before her and cast a small diagnosis charm. When the water glowed in a sickly yellowish color, she quickly dumped it on the ground.

"Poison?" Elia asked in concern.

"Not for me," Senna rumbled. Her face turned into an angry grimace, as she slowly began to register what had almost happened, "Someone had mixed Moon Tea in my water. Someone has been audacious enough to try and murder my unborn child."

She stood up and quickly approached Mina, who was still struggling against the firm grip of the knight who had followed her in.

"How did you know about this, Mina?" She demanded to know.

"I..." Mina's eyes strayed for a moment. Senna was sure that the girl had looked towards Cersei, but it wasn't much of a reason to suspect the girl. "They have tried to recruit me for their scheme… but I sent them away. I had no idea that they would actually go this far, but earlier I heard them talking and..."

"Who?" Senna demanded.

"Bethany Redding and her friends," Mina exclaimed quickly.

"Thoros," Senna yelled loudly. The usually drunk priest hurried to her side as fast as he could.

"You've yelled for me?"

"Yes. Take Mina and as many guards as you need and bring me Bethany Redding and everyone else who is involved in this attempt on my child's life. Bring them here. Should they resist, you are free to use force."

"As you wish," Thoros replied dutifully. The moment she had mentioned the attempted murder of her child, the man had visibly sobered up. And she knew that her guards would be less than polite with these ladies, should they hear about this.

Senna was furious, as she fully realized just how close she had been to killing her own unborn child. She had expected much from the women at court, but this… this had gone too far. She wouldn't accept this kind of audacity anymore. But there was still one questions that demanded an answer. Was the girl sitting in front of her involved or not?

"You must excuse this, Cersei, but these tiresome attempts on mine and my child's life have become somewhat of a regular occurrence. But fear not, I have decided to make an example of all those who dare to threaten me and my family. Those women will soon learn the error of their ways," Senna vowed darkly. And she meant every word of it.

But if Cersei Lannister was truly involved in this plot, she did an expert job on hiding it. She hadn't even flinched when Senna spoke about the punishment that would await all those who had dared to attack her. Of course, Cersei must have known about this plot. Redding had not been among the women who had wisely decided to join their queen's side. She was one of Cersei's goons. But without proof, there was nothing Senna could do. But she would keep Cersei close. Sooner or later even the golden lioness would slip up.

"It is such a distasteful act to try and kill an unborn child," Cersei replied scornfully, "I can only hope that you punishment for these women will be swift and harsh. Those with power need to show that power or else the people will forget why they should fear them."

"Are those your father's words?" Ashara asked scoffingly.

"It is common sense for anyone of noble birth," Cersei retorted icily.

Senna watched in silence and let the two girls bicker for some more time before Elia tried to mediate. Senna's mind was more focused on the situation she now found herself in. She had hoped that with Rosby's death her life would be less dangerous but she had been wrong. Very wrong. She had more enemies than just those pesky cultists.

Soon enough Thoros returned, his men dragging five girls with them. Some of them were kicking and screaming, others were silent and resigned. But it didn't matter much to Senna whether they realized how much they had fucked up or not. They would learn in a few moments that crossing a Peverell is never a good idea.

"We've found them. This one even tried to make a run for it when she saw us," Thoros said, as he grabbed one of the girls and pushed her towards Senna. "It's the Redding girl."

Senna looked at each of the five girls for a long time, before she finally spoke, "It takes a lot of audacity to defy a queen. So far I've been lenient with those who were unhappy with the way I have handled things. Most of it happened due to my mistakes. But the attempted murder of my child, the heir of your king, that is no simple act of defiance. This is treason."

Most of the girls began to cry in fear, as they obviously believed that Senna had proof of their complicity in this attack. But in truth Senna only had Mina's testimony. But now their reaction revealed enough.

"You have no proof!" Bethany Redding groused, "You can do nothing to us!"

"Oh, really?" Senna replied simply. Then she caught it. The look Bethany sent Cersei. She couldn't see Cersei's reaction to it, but Bethany quickly looked away, as if she had been struck by something. "I have all I need to have you all beheaded before this day is over."

"Mercy, your grace. It was all Bethany's fault. She forced us to help her!" One of the other girls cried, as she threw herself on the ground before her queen.

"Be silent you fool," Bethany hissed at the girl, but the damage was done.

"No, you damned us all with your desire for power! Right-hand woman for the next queen, your delusions..."

"Silence," Senna yelled. "I've heard enough. I should have you all drowned and quartered for what you have tried today. Where I come from they would have handed you over to some Dothraki Khal, a fate worse than death for a dimwitted noblewoman. But I have other plans."

"Mercy," the girls whined again. Even Bethany Redding looked pale and afraid now.

"Thoros, take these five and ride with them deep into the Kingswood. Leave them there with nothing but what they carry with them now. Let them find their way home," Senna ordered darkly. "If your gods forgive you for this transgression, maybe you will survive. If not, your deaths will not be on my conscience. This is more mercy than you deserve. But never forget one thing. From this day until the day you die, you are banished from this city. Should you return despite that, you will be executed immediately."

Thoros nodded, as she made a dismissive gesture. He and the guards picked the girls up and dragged them away from their queen. Their dismayed cries and protests could be heard for some more time.

"This mercy will not help you in your attempts to strengthen your position at court. It will only encourage further dissent," Cersei muttered.

Yet Senna only laughed. "It is not mercy, Cersei. But if you want, we can take a little trip to the Kingswood once my child has been born. Then you will see that what I have done was far crueler than a quick death."

"I see," Cersei replied simply. Senna could only guess what was going on in the girl's head, but it was obvious that it wasn't anything good.

"So, Cersei, about my offer. Would you like to join my ladies-in-waiting?" Senna asked. A mock happy smile spread on her lips as she looked at the young Lannister.

"It is an honor," Cersei said calmly, "I accept."

"Wonderful," Senna said. "We will do great things together, my dear. Great things."

Whether this was a mistake or not, was something that no one could tell at this point. But Senna was sure about one thing. After the attack today, it was far better to keep her enemies close. She wouldn't give them another chance to strike from the shadows… but first, she would have to talk to Mina. It was obvious that they had a lot to talk about...


	17. Foreboding

"We really shouldn't be here," Cersei grumbled, as she followed the queen through the winding streets of King's Landing.

Senna only smirked knowingly, as she continued her march. Even in the fifth month of her pregnancy she still refused to abstain from her daily visits to the city, much to Rhaegar's consternation and the horror of Lord Commander Selmy. It was also the reason why her entourage had grown in size, with a dozen more guards and a slew of servants. Not to mention the guards that Cersei always dragged around with her. It was a bother for sure, but Senna would much rather endure her husband's obsession with her protection than to allow others to interfere with her own projects in the city.

"The construction is nearly done, your grace," Ashara said, as they reached the large construction site.

"The people are still weary of this monstrous building. And the idea of washing regularly is not very well received among the poorest. To them, water is to drink from and to piss in," Thoros groused, "Sometimes they do both at the same time."

Senna chuckled, as she replied, "They will trust me. Soon they will see that one of the reasons for the last plague was caused by the horrendous conditions they live in. And once I've found some people who are actually willing to learn the most basic healing techniques the situation in the whole city will improve."

"Why do you even bother, your grace? If one or one hundred of these peasants die, it makes no difference," Cersei muttered.

"It will make a difference, Cersei," Senna replied calmly, "Give the people a chance to love you and they will follow you into the deepest hell and back."

"Armies win wars, peasants are only good to work on the fields and fill the lowest ranks in our armies," Cersei replied insistently. "They wouldn't follow us if their lives are too comfortable and safe."

"Is power the only thing you crave in this life, Cersei," Senna asked the girl critically. She had known before that the young Lannister had a rather twisted view on the world, but the more she listened to her, the more she worried what kind of person Cersei would grow up to be. In ways, she reminded her of Malfoy… only without the childish rivalry and with much fewer qualms…

"What else is there," Cersei bristled, "We are their betters, so why should we raise them above the dirt they belong in?"

"Because no one deserves to live in misery. The time will come when the people you snub now will be the ones to decide your fate. Where I come we have this wonderful saying. They sow the wind and reap the whirlwind."

"And that is supposed to mean what exactly?" Cersei asked bored.

"Gods, you are insufferable," Ashara complained. "Look, your grace, the have nearly finished the new canals."

Senna appreciated her friends' attempt to end the futile discussion, but she knew that this wouldn't be that last time she and Cersei would argue. She keeps the girl close to control her actions somewhat. But that didn't mean that she would condone her view on the world on those who live in it.

She followed Ashara, as the girl walked ahead, towards the half-finished construction site. Cersei remained behind, obviously displeased by the previous conversation. The queen's attention now solely shifted towards her younger friend, especially when Ashara suddenly stopped dead.

"Your grace, you shouldn't..." the girl began.

Immediately Senna's guards sprang into action and formed a ring around their queen and the other ladies. Thoros hurried forward to get Ashara but stopped when he saw what had shocked the girl so.

It was one of their men. One of the myrish guards, who was not on guard duty at the moment. Disemboweled and strung up from a scaffold. And underneath his dead body, someone had written a warning with the dead man's blood.

"An eye for an eye. Death to the Phoenix," Senna spat, as she read the words. "Thoros, take him down. Prepare a pyre for him."

"At once, your grace," the priest replied somberly. He motioned for two of his man to recover their murdered comrade.

Senna watched them, her gaze as dark as her thoughts at that moment. She had hoped that the death of their benefactor in the city would at the very least hamper them. Yet here they are, sending her an unmistakable message. They can get her guards, so they can get anyone they guard as well. Not that she would let them. If only she wasn't held back by her pregnancy at the moment. She would start here and now to hunt them down. She would search every hut, every house, every mansion until all of them are found and brought to justice. But she would have to be more cautious for now. She would not put her child at risk… but in a few more months, there would be war.

"So this is the love those peasants show you?" Cersei said spitefully. "They are animals and no amount of love will change that." The young Lannister didn't wait for the queen's reply. Despite the obvious disrespect of such an action, she turned away and left, surrounded by her own guards as she hurried back to the Red Keep.

Senna still ignored the Lannister girl. It was obvious that the situation had unnerved Cersei just as it had unnerved her. Because this death could just as likely mean one thing. Those who so callously murder those close to queen can strike everywhere. And the Lannister girl can't ignore that she is now a part of the queen's retinue… no matter how reluctant she was about it.

* * *

Ned wasn't sure what really surprised him less. To hear that his sister had used the first chance she got to go against her father's command or that Robert had found a way to leave the capital despite his father's command.

But when he awoke, barely a week after he had arrived in Winterfell, he was greeted by the boisterous laugh of Robert Baratheon. The heir of Storm's End sat in his hall, drinking ale and eating a large breakfast.

Ned's younger brother, Benjen, sat with Robert and listened with rapt attention, as Robert regaled him with his wild tales of their exploits in the Vale and King's Landing. Tales that were clearly unsuited for a thirteen-year-old boy.

A headache threatened to split his head apart, as Ned listened to Robert's explanation for why he had come to the North. His sister and her temper… now he had to worry about her as well. As if a missing father and a brother on a wild hunt beyond the Wall weren't enough reasons to keep him up at night. Now he had to send out men to find her as well. So far she hadn't been seen in anywhere near Winterfell. He doubted that she would go directly to the Wall, that would have been too bold even for her and her uncontrollable wolf blood…

Robert, though worried for Lyanna, was in a far better mood. Getting away from the king's court and the lies and deceit there had improved Robert's state of mind as it seemed and now he was much more like the man he had been at the Eyrie. This also meant that he would have to send someone to warn the brothels nearby before Robert would tear through them like a storm in his relentless pursuit of lust.

"You see, boy, when Ned and I traveled through the Vale we happened upon this great tavern, hidden somewhere in the shadows of the great mountains. Great ale and food, but the owner's daughter..." Robert stopped and let out a laugh that could only be described as utterly lecherous, "Not a great face, but tits, I tell you. So big you could bury your whole face in them. It was glorious."

"Robert!" Ned warned him gently, but Robert ignored him.

"Your brother was sure I wouldn't be able to bed the lass," Robert said, "Her father was rather open about what he would do to the first man who dared to get too close to his daughter. But I love a good challenge and when the night came I climbed on the stables next to the tavern and reached her room. Then I fu..."

"Robert!" Ned admonished him, much more fervently now, "My brother has no need for your crass stories."

Robert wouldn't listen, though. "For fucks sake, Ned, he isn't a little boy anymore. He is old enough to drink with us until he pisses himself and he is surely old enough to fuck all the pretty wenches he can find here."

"He is thirteen," Ned replied as if that statement alone would end all further arguments.

"When I was thirteen I had fucked half of the girl's at Storm's End!"

"But Benjen isn't you," Ned replied simply.

The boy in question just sat there, between the two friends and remained silent. It was unclear whether the exchange amused or mortified him.

Ned, on the other hand, wanted to curse Robert for his choice of topic. He was the Lord of Winterfell now, at least until his father and Brandon return, so his little brother's correct upbringing was his responsibility. And he really didn't want to screw this up.

"You are so uptight, Ned. One day you will die as an old virgin or worse, you will leave me and join the Nightswatch, just because their oath forbids men to have fun!" Robert lamented. "Live a little."

"It's not that easy, Robert. And I really thought that Queen Senna had finally talked some sense into you. This way Lyanna will only get angrier at you," Ned told him.

Somehow Ned missed the queen, now that he was almost on the other side of the realm. She could be as emotional as Robert, yet she showed my restraint and common sense than Robert ever had. But life seemed less tedious and repetitive with her, even though there had been that constant fear of an attack…

Yet here at Winterfell, the duties of a lord left him little time to do anything but manage what his father and brother had left behind. The maester was of some help, but it was obvious that Brandon had left a great mess behind. Over a hundred messages from vassal lords and other petitioners had piled up and each day the line of people who demanded to talk to him got longer. There was only so much he could do in a day, but the hardships of winter did take its toll on the land and the people.

"Senna can take her good advice and shove it. I am who I am, why should I change that? I like who I am!" Robert said indignantly. "More ale!" He yelled after that.

Ned only shook his head in dismay but decided that the for now it would be preferable not to press this issue. But he had come to agree with the queen on one thing, the match between Robert and Lyanna would never be a happy one. No matter how much he wishes for it, he would have to talk to his father about this matter. Maybe it would be better for everyone involved to see the betrothal canceled. But he could only do that with a heavy heart. Robert would be devastated, no doubt.

"So, what needs to be done today, Ned? I am here to help and I have no intention to go back south without you!"

There was plenty to do, but little Robert would be much help at. Attempts to manage the workforce and money at his disposal to prevent the destruction of too many northern holdfasts was not a matter that Robert would excel at. No, his friend would need a good fight, which reminded him of one of the letters he had read the day before. A plea for help from Jeor Mormont.

"Maybe you can help with an issue on Bear Island. They have been plagued by repeated attacks from slavers and raiders for some time. All of the western cost has, but none as badly as Bear Island. You can go there and help them root out the problem. Push those raiders back into the sea, so I can stop worrying for some time at least."

Robert's face showed great anticipation. A fight was just what he would enjoy the most now. And there was little doubt that there would be fighting. The Mormons would see to that.

"You are not coming?"

"I'm needed here, Robert. But surely this issue shouldn't keep you away for long. I will be here when you return," Ned assured him.

And while Robert was busy, maybe he would manage to find Lyanna and talk to her. Not just about her absolute disregard of orders, but also about his change of heart concerning her betrothal. But with all the problems he had to deal with, he might just as well be forced to devote his entire time to the North… His only solace in all of this was the knowledge that after this troubled time he would never be forced to rule the North again… being the second born son had never been such a blessing before…

"Hm," Robert looked pensive for a moment. It had been clear that he had come to the North to be with his best friend, but the chance for a good fight had never been so enticing for him before. "Fine. I deal with your troubles on the moose island."

"Bear Island," Ned corrected.

"Like I care," Robert said with a boisterous laugh. "I will teach those Ironborn reavers a lesson they won't forget anytime soon."

"We don't know if they are Ironborn, Robert. They might just as well be some tribe from the not so distant shores in the North. Bear Island is not entirely out of the Wildlings' reach."

Robert shrugged, "Whoever they are, I will relieve them off their heads for you. Just see to it that there will be enough drink and food when I return. We will celebrate!" And with that, Robert drank the rest of his ale in one greedy gulp and got up to leave. "Onwards to battle!" He even tried to drag Benjen with him, but Ned managed to free his brother from Robert's clutches.

"My brother will stay here," he said simply.

"Suit yourself. One day he will have to bloody himself, Ned. Better now when he had so such a great opportunity to learn more about the battle!" Robert replied before he quickly stalked out of the hall.

Ned remained, unsure whether it was the right choice to send Robert on this task. He may just as well escalate the entire conflict, just for the heck of it. Ned sighed deeply. He wasn't even sure whether Robert would find Bear Island in the first place. His friend hadn't even asked where it is… Oh, he knew that this would one of those days…

* * *

Rhaegar's thoughts had become more troubled after he had heard about the incident in the city. Even though Senna hadn't been the immediate target, this time, it was obvious that this murder was meant to frighten her. Not to mention that the idea that one of her most loyal guards, one of those who only leave her side for some brief moments, had been killed without anyone noticing it. In the past these men had visited the city in their free time, to drink and revel, but due to the increased threat to the queen and the growing animosity shown to the followers of the red god, they had fully devoted their lives to the queen's protection.

A week had already passed since then, but Senna had been very tight lipped about her thoughts on that. He could see that she blamed herself for this. At least in part. She had been so assured that her attack on Rosby would pacify the city at least long enough for her to give birth, but now these enemies had resurfaced within a month of this short-lived victory.

Senna had devoted even more of her time to the erection of her wards. It wore her down, especially when her magic tended to lash out during her pregnancy. She wasn't sure why that happened, though. She had never heard about this occurrence before… but at the same time she was the only known Valyrian witch, maybe the last in the entire world. And there hadn't been any before her for quite some time, so she had no one to consult about this. He had implored Pycelle to make inquiries at the Citadel about this issue, despite Senna's dislike of the Maesters. But even their extensive library failed to deliver.

"What is going on in that head of yours?" he asked his wife, as they sat together for an early dinner.

He had taken the time to eat with her at least twice each day. Otherwise, his and her duties would keep them apart from dawn till dusk. Their time together had made them both happier as a result, especially since it allowed him to observe how his wife's belly grew more and more with each passing day. He hardly remembered whether his father had ever cared about his mother's pregnancies. Maybe about his own, the firstborn son and heir are always a big deal for any lord, even more so for a king. But he doubted that his father had cared for any of the following, especially since most of them resulted in sickly infants or stillborn children. It was one of the reasons why his mother's life had been so miserable. Viserys and he had been her only joy for a long time, but whenever one of her children died, her husband… her brother left her alone to grief. Rhaegar vowed to himself to never be like Aerys. He would be there for each and every child the Seven would grant him and his wife.

"I am still having trouble finding volunteers for the healers. The High Septon has done a thorough job when he made the people in the city believe that herbal remedies and simple medical applications are tools of the Stranger to drag their souls to the deepest of the Seven Hells," Senna replied bitterly. "I swear, one day I will have to expose that man as the fraud he really is."

This was another thing that had bothered him as well. Senna's quarrel with the High Septon. The man hardly dared to openly attack or accuse the queen, yet he did his utmost to be a bother to each and every attempt she made to help the people in the city. And the masses remained oblivious to all of it. Maybe it was for the better that way. He wasn't sure how things would turn out when the people would have to choose between the queen that tries to better their lives and the man whom they believe to be a mouthpiece of the Seven…

"We will find a way to make things work. If we can't find suitable candidates in King's Landing, maybe we can find people elsewhere..."

"No," Senna interjected, "I know that you are talking about the Maesters again, but I won't teach them. They accumulate as much knowledge as they can, but they don't teach it to anyone but their own. The monopolize knowledge to put themselves in a position of power and one day they will abuse the power you and all the other lords have given them."

Rhaegar wasn't sure where this kind of distrust had come from, but this wasn't the first occasion where Senna had shown just how distrustful she tended to be. Little could he know about the memories that plagued her dreams and thoughts. Memories of powerful organizations and their dark machinations.

"Rhaegar, I know that at the moment the Maesters are the primary source of medical help you have available, but I really don't want to empower them even further. Just imagine what would happen, should they get their hands on the Peverell library. They would lock away everything and the knowledge would be lost forever."

"But you have to be truthful here, Senna, at the moment you are doing the same. You are the only one who can access all this knowledge. So many secrets and achievements of old Valyria, waiting to be shared with the world," Rhaegar chided gently.

Senna deflated a bit and wouldn't meet his gaze, as she sighed and replied, "You are right, of course. I will have to share that knowledge. But not all at the same time and not to just one shady group of people. Compared to what they had in Valyria, even King's Landing seems like a group of uneducated wildlings. I will share the knowledge, but I will be very careful with the choice of students here. Some of your lords would no doubt try to abuse the knowledge, should they get the chance to monopolize it."

"You are not talking about the Lannisters again, are you?" he asked her with a raised eyebrow. He was well aware of some of their more elaborate schemes and had countered most of them whenever he could. It was almost like a game of Cyvasse between him and Tywin Lannister now. At least the old lion did nothing that would be considered treasonous, other than his daughter. He had been stunned by her audacity when Senna revealed that Cersei was likely the guiding hand behind the Moon Tea incident a month before. But what had surprised him, even more, was Senna's insistence that she would take care of the young girl.

"They are not the only ones. Only some of those who would abuse the knowledge to its full potential," Senna mused. Then she suddenly cast a spell and book came flying from the other side of the room and landed directly in her outstretched hand. "But here, maybe you will find the time to read a bit."

She handed him the book and waited with baited breath for his reaction. And she didn't need to wait for long. The book itself looked rather plain. There had been no title on the binding, but it felt strange to his touch. Only belated he realized that it wasn't ordinary leather, but rather a piece of blackened dragon skin. When he opened it he found the title, written in the old Valyrian language the writings showed great skill. But that was only of secondary concern. No, the title itself was important. The journal of Elaena Peverell.

"Elaena is one of my most revered ancestors. She was the one who lead my family to Myr only years before the Doom. She was also one of the few women who had ever managed to dominate the Convocation of Magisters that rules Myr."

"Is that so?" he wondered whether this was all.

"And she has also been the last known Valyrian witch… well before I had been born at least. I have yet to regain the power she once wielded. I want you to read it, maybe it will help you understand what I really am. Elaena had been very descriptive about the things she wrote about and left this journal as an aide for those who may come after her," Senna told him gently.

There was so much reverence in her voice and in her eyes that he marveled just how much this dead ancestor had influenced her as a person. It was almost little child talking about his favorite knight from a fairy tale, only much more real and deep seeded.

"I will study it closely and return it to you soon," he vowed. She sent him a pleased smile before she returned her attention to her food for the time being.

This wasn't the first book she had given him to study. She had shared several tomes about the history of her family with him, she had even offered to bring him to her library whenever he wished it, so he could study whatever would catch his fancy. But this book… it seemed much more personal, almost intimate. At this point in their marriage, he had considered himself well informed about how his wife thinks and acts. But he realized now that so far he might have only seen the woman Senna Peverell, not the powerful witch with untold powers. It is a sign of trust. He was sure that it wasn't easy for her to allow anyone to know her true self, but here she was, surrendering the very essence of what she was to him. So now, after over one and half years of marriage, she would be his completely. He could only hope to be able to reciprocate the important gesture...


	18. Life and Death

"That one makes twenty-three," Robert boasted loudly, as he slung his hammer over his shoulder.

It had been a long time since he had felt so free, so alive. The icy winds of the North cut his skin like tiny knives and howled in his ears like the rumbling roar of a fully grown dragon, but by the Seven, he felt alive.

"Only twenty-three? I've expected more of you, Stormlander," Maege Mormont mocked.

The daughter of House Mormont had been the one to accompany him. This brutish woman, who looked more like a bear with teats than a noble lady was the sister of the current lord of Bear Island. Robert had been surprised at first, when he had been told that she would accompany him, and not Lord Jeor's son, Jorah, who was a few years older than him. But once he saw the woman swing her barbed mace, he knew that this was no lady, but a fighter.

He looked around again, searching for any more enemies waiting to be introduced to his hammer. But to his disappointment, all the raiders were either face down in the reddening snow or had fled in sheer terror.

"One would think that they have learned their lesson by now," Robert muttered, "These idiots are as daft as they can be. I hope there are more where they have come from."

"Stupid and ugly, no wonder they suit you so well, Stormlander," Maege continued her mocking. "I'll be glad when all of them are nothing more but food for the wild animals on my family's lands."

They had been hunting these raiders for a month now. Much to Robert's disappointment the attackers had not been Ironborn, but Wildlings and other misbegotten spawns from farther lands. In the end, it mattered little. He enjoyed his time in the North thoroughly, even without Ned by his side. But that did not mean that he wouldn't look forward to returning to Winterfell. He hadn't received any news while he had been here, but he hoped that Lyanna was there now, waiting for him to claim her as his future wife.

"Men, gather whatever weapons and supplies they have, we are going home," Maege ordered loudly. "Come, Stormlander, a feast awaits us. This should have been enough to break our enemies."

Robert snorted. He didn't share her enthusiasm about this, but he wasn't one to ignore the possibility of a feast. Maybe they would have a pretty wench or two for him to enjoy. On this frozen island they didn't even have a whorehouse and after a bloody battle, he felt the urge stronger than usual. But what they call women here did not meet his expectations… he couldn't suppress the shudder when he looked at Maege that very moment.

This… she-bear already had two daughters of her own. Claimed that a bear had sired them and seeing her like this, Robert felt inclined to believe this tale. She looked and reeked like an animal, it would be understandable for a bear to get confused.

They returned to their horses and rode for the Mormont's wooden keep. The battle hadn't been far away this time so their return was somewhat more hasty than usual. Within a few hours, they had returned.

As it had been the last few times, people were already waiting for them as they reached the stables. But unlike the last time, Lord Jeor's son was among them, a troubled look on his face.

"Lord Baratheon, my father wishes to speak to you immediately upon your return," Jorah told him, just as Robert jumped off of his horse. "A rider from Winterfell has arrived just this morning."

Robert quickly marched towards Lord Jeor's Hall, where the man would usually be at this hour of the day. A messenger from Winterfell meant news from Ned. He was anxious to hear what his friend had to tell him.

The lord of Bear Island was alone, unusual but not unheard of, as Robert entered the hall. In his hands, he had a letter, likely the one Ned had sent, as he stared into the large fire that burned in the center of the hall.

"Lord Jeor, your son mentioned a messenger from Winterfell," Robert said, as he reached the man.

Lord Jeor looked up and towards him before he bid Robert to stand next to him. He didn't offer the letter, instead, he spoke, "Dire news, Lord Baratheon. It would seem that we have not lost just one, but two lords of Winterfell to the untamed lands beyond the Wall. Brandon Stark has disappeared, searching for his father. He and the rangers that had accompanied him have not been seen for many weeks."

This was truly troublesome. He did not like Brandon Stark all that much, but he harbored the man no ill will. He knew that Ned was rather fond of him, Seven Hells, Ned was overly fond of his entire family to the point of self-sacrifice for their sake. He had seen the worry in his friend's eyes when Lord Rickard had disappeared. Losing his older brother, too... Ned wouldn't take such a loss well, Robert was sure of that.

When Robert remained silent, Jeor continued, "It is Lord Stark's wish for you to return to Winterfell immediately."

"Then I will leave as soon as my horse is ready," Robert answered swiftly.

Jeor nodded solemnly, "Yes, that would be best. Know that you have my gratitude for your aid in these past weeks. Your presence and prowess have been a welcome inspiration for my men. But I have one more request to make of you."

Another request? Robert wasn't really in the mood to humor the lord, not when all his thoughts drifted towards his friend and his betrothed. But he nodded wordlessly.

"Take my son Jorah with you," Jeor asked, "I fear that staying here won't do him much good. He has to see the realm before he can take my place. The death of his wife has left him morose, but this won't do. Take him to Winterfell and to the south once you return to your queen."

"Very well..."

"And I will be going as well," Maege interrupted Robert, much to his anger. "There is no way that I will allow this lackwit to take little Jorah without proper supervision."

"And your daughters, dear sister?" Jeor asked with a disgruntled tone.

Maege laughed boisterously. "Dacey is old enough to hunt on her own and it is high time for Alysane to learn that her mother won't be around forever."

"I doubt that you would even listen should I say no, so go," Jeor said with a deep sigh. "I will see to it that your daughters are well taken care of. May the gods have mercy on us all."

* * *

Senna watched the proceedings in the courtyard from a window. Down below, Thoros was readying her troops for another night of blood. She rued that she was in no condition to join her men, but she wouldn't risk the life of her child, not even for a chance to destroy those who would seek her destruction.

Thoros and his love for wine and women had paid off in the end. Who would have thought that whorehouses end up to be such wonderful places to gather information. Thanks to the priests less than noble habits, they had happened up yet another large group of cultists, waiting in the shadow for the right moment to strike at her.

"Your grace, are you alright," Elia asked her.

The Dornish princess, perceptive as always, had seen the look on Senna's face and began to worry. And how could she not? If the queen had a reason to feel apprehensive, it was never a good sign.

"Everything is fine, Elia," Senna assured her.

She finally stepped away from the window and approached the table near her, where she took a goblet filled with water. Senna felt parched for some unknown reason. No, it wasn't just thirst, there was something else, a strange feeling she had not had before. Maybe she was just tired. Everything seemed to be more taxing in the later months of her pregnancy. Even casting simple spells required more concentration than it usually would. At this point she was really looking forward to giving birth, just to feel in control again.

"Where are Mina and that blonde cow?" Ashara asked cheekily.

Senna smiled slightly, as she considered Ashara's words. The young Dornish lady had a profound dislike of the young Lannister. Rightfully so. They all knew why Cersei was now officially a part of the queen's inner circle, but that didn't mean that they would like the arrogant girl. Far from it, though only Ashara would openly argue with Cersei.

"Mina is dining with her brother today. Lord Mace has even extended an invitation to the queen, which..."

"Which I declined respectfully," Senna interrupted Elia.

She had been in no mood to humor Mace Tyrell. The man was a fool. A good-natured fool, who loves to brag about his wife and firstborn son, but a fool none the less. But at least she knew that Rhaegar had succeeded in making sure that the lord of the Reach was loyal to the crown and not to other factions at court.

"And Lady Cersei," Elia stressed the title, as she sent Ashara a pointed look, "Is dining with her brother and father."

And Senna was so very glad that the Lannisters had made no attempt to convince her to join them for any sort of informal meeting. Denying Tywin Lannister is far harder than denying Mace Tyrell. But it was obvious that the old lion was wary of her and her magic. He didn't show it openly, but she knew that he had people watching her, to gauge the extent of her powers. A pity he would only see what he was looking for once he makes a fatal mistake…

"Rhaegar should be here any minute now, then we can finally have dinner ourselves," Senna muttered to herself.

Her eyes drifted back towards the window. The commotion outside had died down by now. Thoros and his men were gone, off to do their bloody work. Of all those serving her directly, only her knights and a dozen of her personal guard remained, the rest was out in the city, to wipe out the remains of the cult.

"I am sure that Thoros will return soon, your grace," Elia tried to assure Senna, as she saw the lingering gaze.

"It's not that, it is just… I should be out there with them. I ordered this fight so it would only be right for me to..."

She stopped abruptly, as a spike of pain run through her lower half. It came so sudden, so strongly, that even her legs forsook her and stopped carrying her weight.

"Your grace," Elia and Ashara cried in dismay, as they rushed to her side.

Senna's handmaidens, who had stood by their mistress in silence, had been the first by her side and tried to steady her. But to no avail.

"Go, get the Maester," Ashara yelled towards one of the guards.

"No..." Senna cried in fear, "this is too soon."

"Hurry," Ashara yelled again when the guards still hesitated.

Just as the guard was about to leave the room in haste, Rhaegar and Arthur were about to enter. The king paled when he saw his wife on the ground, her face distorted in pain and her ladies crowded around her.

"By the Seven, what is going on here," he demanded to know as he rushed to Senna's side.

"The baby… our son is in a hurry to enter this world," Senna told him hoarsely.

At the same time, Thoros lead his men into the tunnels underneath King's Landing. Unaware of the current condition of their queen, the faithful followers of the Phoenix Queen got ready for battle in the unknown darkness.

* * *

It had been hard for Thoros to find anything about the tunnels that connected nearly all corners of the city. All he could find was that they had been built on the command of Aegon the Conqueror, to ensure that the royal family could escape when necessary. At least on tunnel each lead from the Red Keep to the Great Sept and the Dragon Pit, but the further they marched into the darkness, the more it became clear that there was so much more.

It was a gigantic maze, confusing, cold and dank. Not to mention that near constant smell of feces and rot. Every step they took resounded from the brick walls around them, making it nigh on impossible to remain unnoticed for long.

But it didn't deter him. It spurned him on to hasten his steps. The sooner the cultists were dead, the sooner her would get out of this hole and back into a tavern where alcohol and wenches would keep him warm.

But the enemy seemed to elude them. For an hour they walked. Then for another and another. But no enemy in sight and much to his growing worry, no exit either.

"Commander, here, you have to see this!" one of his men called out to him.

He went over to the man, to see what he had found. What he saw both aggravated and worried him greatly. Another tunnel, but one below them, leading them deeper into the depths beneath the city.

"And down we go, deeper into this hellish pit," Thoros muttered, as he decided to follow the tunnel his men had found. What was the worst thing that could happen? They had no idea where the enemy was really hiding, neither had they any clue how to get out of these tunnels even if they wanted to.

But as they descended further, Thoros noticed something odd. It got progressively colder. Nothing like the wet corridors above them, but a bone-chilling coldness that made one's teeth clatter and limbs numb. As if the frozen heart of the eternal night itself was awaiting them.

His men suddenly stopped, when they heard a sound. Faint at first, but as they listened more intently, they recognized it as chanting of sorts. They couldn't make out any words or what language was spoken in the first place, but it was the first real sign of life they had encountered in the tunnels.

So they proceeded slowly, as silently as their armors allowed them until they reached a section of the corridors that were brightly lit by hundreds of torches. But still no other person. Only the fire and the chanting.

But soon enough they reached the end of the tunnels, a gigantic circular room, big enough to fit hundreds of people and then some. And there they found what they had come for. Dozens upon dozens of robed men, kneeling on the ground before some kind of altar. And in front of them stood a gaunt man with bone-white skin and hair as white as snow.

A feral grin spread on Thoros lips, as he finally saw the end of his chase coming. All they had to do now was to wipe out all of these cultists and they could return above ground, where they belong.

"These are the enemies of our queen!" he announced loudly, "Leave no survivors. For the Phoenix Queen and the Lord of Light!"

"For the Queen!" the men roared in unison before they drew their swords and rushed into the room.

The cultists, alerted by the battle cry were still taken mostly by surprise and fell quickly. All but one, who cut through the men without even drawing his sword.

Thoros faced the white-haired leader of the cultists himself, not knowing what enemy he had chosen this day. And neither had he realized that the man and the altar in front of him were the sources of the biting cold in the room. Yet it would not have mattered too much to him, this man was an enemy of his queen and he would bring an end to him.

* * *

Mance watched in apprehension, as their small group of rangers followed the young Lord of Winterfell further and further into the frozen wastes. By now he had lost all feeling for time and so he could no longer tell for how long they had been out here. There was nothing but mountains and ice as far as the eye could see. He wasn't even sure whether they were still moving north of somewhere else. Their whole journey was a fool's errand for sure, but there was nothing that could deter Brandon Stark now.

After they had found the remains of Lord Rickard's horse in the desecrated Godswood, they had come across several other things that Brandon had identified as his father's belongings. A sword, a cloak with the sigil of House Stark embroidered on the back and lastly a ring. The sigil ring that had been passed down by the Starks since the days of the old kings… and to their shock, half an arm was still attached to it.

All of this made it impossible to convince the young Lord of Winterfell to turn around. Driven mad by the question about what had happened to his father, he only knew one direction. Forward. Deep into the darkest night.

"Your lord has lost his mind," Harma told him darkly, as she held him back.

The rest of the group had walked on ahead and never noticed that Mance and their prisoner were not directly behind them.

"He isn't my lord," Mance replied calmly, "But I agree with you, he is not thinking clearly right now."

He stopped walking and looked around. All he could see was frozen wasteland and the darkened sky above them. And he had a really bad feeling about their ongoing search. They should return to the Wall, there was nothing for them to find here. Lord Rickard was surely dead, there was nothing more for them to find here… except for their own undoing.

But Brandon, who walked ahead of the group did not see this the same way. Maddened by the thoughts in his head, thoughts about the grizzly fate his father had suffered. And the need for answers. Who had done this? And why?

He rode and rode further north, hunting for his father until his horse died on him. Then he walked. Until his feet bled and his body ached. He knew that Ned would have done things differently. Ned wouldn't have charged into the frozen wilderness. He would have waited and planned. He would have found a way to solve everything… eventually. But Brandon knew one thing. He wasn't Ned. His blood boils just thinking about allowing anyone to strike at his family and get away with it.

No matter how dangerous it would be, he would not back down. Not now. He knew that he was close to getting the answers he was looking for. He couldn't explain why, but he knew it. He could feel it in his blood.

He pushed forward, across another ravine and over another hill. It was there that he saw it, this one, lone figure, standing amidst a field of bones. His pace quickened until he was running towards this figure, sure that it would be either his father or the one responsible for what had happened to him.

When he got closer, he realized that it couldn't possibly be his father. No, this figure was smaller than his father's brawny frame. And even though this person had her back turned towards him and wore a thick cloak, he was sure that it had to be a woman.

"You are late, Brandon," the woman said with a voice that was far too familiar to the young Stark.

He needed to know for sure, so he closed the gap between them and grabbed the woman's shoulder. He spun her around, so she would face him. But what he saw made him take a few steps back in shock. For now, he looked upon the face of his little sister…

"How is this possible… Lyanna?"

"Yes, brother. I've been waiting for you. Waiting for you to stop running in circles," she replied, her voice bar of any emotion. Even her face was impassive and her eyes lacked their usual fire. In fact, they looked clouded… as if she was addled…

"You should be in King's Landing! Father had ordered..."

"Father..." she snorted derisively, as she walked away from Brandon and knelt down amidst the bones. She picked up one of the skulls and looked at it for some time before she continued, "The dead give no orders. They only follow them." She let got of the skull and stood back up.

"You know what has happened to him?"

"He is dead," she replied, showing not even the slightest hint of emotion.

Brandon was disconcerted by her answer at first before he quickly approached her, his face a visage of unbridled fury. He grabbed his sister's shoulders and shook her violently.

"What do you mean? How can you say this so callously? He was our father, the man who has done everything for us. All to ensure our future!" he yelled at her.

She snorted again, before she snarled, "Everything? Selling me to a whoring drunk for the sake of power? Your power!"

"Did you do it? Have you killed our father?"

She looked almost rueful, as she answered, "No. I did not. Sadly the fool met his end before the master found me, lost and alone somewhere in the wilderness beyond the Neck."

"Who is his murderer then?" Brandon demanded to know.

"There is no need for you to know this. You are of no use to the master," Lyanna replied before she suddenly pulled the dagger from her belt and stabbed her brother in the chest.

Brandon's eyes were wide in shock, as he sank to his knees. He could hear his companions scream behind him, but he had no strength to turn his head to see what fate had befallen them. He could only watch dumbly, as Lyanna turned around and walked away from him.

"Lyanna… why?" he said hoarsely.

"Farewell, brother. In the end, we all pay for our mistakes," was all Lyanna replied, before his world turned dark and his eyes closed forever. In the end, he found out what had happened to his father… as he suffered the same fate as him.

Rhaegar paced through the room, where Arthur had brought him to give the women the much-needed space. The king was a worried mess. He wanted to be with his wife, as she was giving birth to their first child. But everyone, even Senna included, had demanded that he leaves. His fretting had been too distracting, his ramblings too bothersome.

So now he was in a room, only a few steps away from where his wife was, waiting with a few other men. The servants had brought them food and drink to pass the time. Strong wine to calm his nerves.

"Drink," Arthur ordered, as he pushed a cup filled to the brim with wine into Rhaegar's hand. "You are a worried mess. Is this how you want your son to see you?"

"I really don't want alcohol right now," Rhaegar replied indignantly.

"He is right, your grace, you need to calm down," Ser Barristan said, agreeing with his fellow knight. "The queen would surely take exception to your presence, should you enter her room in this sorry state."

Rhaegar groaned as he looked at the two knights. He really didn't want to be drunk, not on this day, not when one of the most important moments of his life was just around the corner. But there was no arguing with these men and he knew that they had no ill intentions.

"This reminds of the day my oldest son was born," Mace Tyrell began. Rhaegar wasn't sure why the lord of the Reach was here in the first place, but despite the late hour he had come immediately to his king's side when he had been informed that the queen had gone into labor. Maybe it was just his way to try and ingratiate himself with his liege or maybe it was due to some perceived form of friendship that the exuberant man believed to see between himself and the king.

"Were you worried as well?" Rhaegar asked the man. Maybe Mace would at least offer some distraction. Even a few minutes would be welcome.

"Most definitely. I could do little more than sit by her side the entire time and hold my dear Alerie's hand."

"So you were allowed to stay by her side?" Rhaegar asked pointedly, as he looked darkly at the two knights who had all but shoved him into this room.

"Oh yes. All twelve hours it had taken for Willas to come into this world," Mace reminisced.

Rhaegar paled as he heard this, "Twelve hours? By the Seven..."

"Surely it won't take this long for Queen Senna..." Arthur tried to reassure him.

Even Ser Barristan, who had looked just as surprised, tried his best to calm the king, "Your grace, I do remember that your own birth had been quite fast. Little more than an hour from beginning to the end."

"The circumstances were different, though," Rhaegar muttered.

His own birth brought back memories of Summerhall. The tragedy there and the terrible burden that the survivors had to carry. A burden he had shared with his wife… who was no giving birth to his child… maybe at the cost of her own life… No, he really didn't want to allow his thoughts to be darkened by the memories of Summerhall. Not today. Never again.

He took the offered cup from Arthur's hands and downed it in one large gulp, much to the surprise of the men present.

"Easy, Rhaegar. This is really strong wine, you should take your time," Arthur cautioned.

"I just… needed that," Rhaegar admitted before he sat down next to Mace. "So, what was it like, to hold you firstborn for the first time?"

"It was an utter joy. I wanted to cry in happiness as that little boy looked at me. I wanted all of the Seven Kingdoms to know of my joy," Mace told him eagerly.

And if Rhaegar remembered clearly, Mace Tyrell had made sure that the entire realm knew about the birth of his heir. Riders from Highgarden had carried the message to all important Houses in the Reach and beyond. Not that it would be any different for him. By the time his child would see the sun for the first time, all the ravens in King's Landing would carry the news to every corner of the Seven Kingdoms.

"So what do you think, will it a be a boy or a girl?" Arthur asked.

"Senna is sure that it will be a boy. A mother's intuition she calls it," Rhaegar laughed lightly.

"Alerie was the same. And she was right," Mace added, an almost triumphant expression on his face. "Women know things we poor men don't. Mother always insists on that and maybe she isn't too far from the truth."

"But it wouldn't matter. Son or daughter, the realm will rejoice knowing that the royal family is flourishing," Ser Barristan said.

And Rhaegar couldn't agree more. The greatest cause for unrest had been the dwindling numbers of House Targaryen. For a time the royal family had been nigh on extinct. The people fear the struggle that would follow, should House Targaryen cease to exist. All other major Houses would try to press their claim and the realm would bleed. Healthy children would reassure the people that the Targaryens would continue to rule for many more generations.

All men in the room suddenly jerked up, when the door opened. But this time, it wasn't a servant who entered, but Ashara. Arthur's little sister looked dead on her feet, but at the same time, she looked content. It wasn't really a sign but at the very least a hint that nothing bad had happened. At least Rhaegar tried to grasp every straw he could.

"Your grace, please come now. Quickly," Ashara beckoned Rhaegar.

They needn't tell him twice. He was surprised how quickly his feet could carry him all of a sudden and at a later date, he wouldn't really remember much about the way from the room to his wife's side, even despite the many people waiting in the hallway. All that had been on his mind at that moment were his wife and child.

When he entered her room, he saw her servants and the Grand Maester standing at the side, all of them looking equally tired as Ashara had. But he paid them little attention, as his eyes sought Senna.

The queen was on the bed, looking pale and tired, he hair clinging to her sweaty skin. But the smile on her lips was beatific as she looked at the small bundle in her arms.

"Come, Rhaegar," she called out to him, "Come and meet our daughter."

A daughter… he knew he should have felt at very least a slight bit of disappointment. A male heir would have been perfect, but it mattered little. A daughter was just as wonderful. Especially when he saw the little girl in Senna's arms.

"Alysanne," he whispered, as he gently caressed the sleeping babe's head.

"Don't be cruel, Senna," Elia chided, as she stepped closer. "Here he is, all cleaned up now." The Dornish princess added, as she placed another bundle in Rhaegar's arms.

"Of course, now that you have welcomed our daughter, you should also greet her younger brother," Senna laughed lightly.

A son as well? Twins… Rhaegar would not have believed it, had it not been for the little boy that looked at him with those familiar lilac eyes…

"What, too shocked to speak? What is little Daeron supposed to think about his father now," Senna mock pouted.

But all Rhaegar could do was stare at both his children and his wife in disbelief. He had hoped for a healthy child… but his wife had given him two. An heir to the throne and a perfect little girl…

"They are… perfect," he whispered adoringly. "You have done wonderfully, my love."

He bowed down to her, careful not to crush his son, as he pressed a kiss to Senna's forehead.

"Making children takes two, you know. So good job, my dear husband," Senna replied, as she laughed happily. "But now I am so very tired."

She closed her eyes and almost immediately drifted off to sleep. Rhaegar, unsure whether she was truly alright looked quickly towards the Grand Maester.

"The queen is a very strong woman, your grace. In all my years I have not seen or heard of a less complicated birth," Pycelle assured him, "Both the queen and the children are well."

He sighed in relief and looked back at Senna. Even in sleep the smile on her lips wouldn't wane. Seven hells, he was sure that the dumb smile on his own face wouldn't leave him for weeks to come.

"Grand Maester, send out the ravens. Let all the realm know. Tell them all about the birth of Prince Daeron and Princess Alysanne Targaryen. This is a day of joy for all Seven Kingdoms," Rhaegar ordered.

"At once, your grace," Pycelle said, as he bowed lightly and excused himself from the room.

Meanwhile, Elia had taken Alysanne from Senna and stood next to him. "All will be well, your grace. We will take care of the queen and the children."

"Thank you," he replied simply.

It was all he could say now. He understood what Mace had meant. He wanted to scream in utter joy, so everyone could hear him. He felt so unbelievably happy. For the first time in his entire life, he felt what it is like to know no worries. At this very moment, not even Summerhall would ruin his mood. He was a father now… and he would do everything in his powers to be a better father for his children than his own had been. He vowed that, as he looked at those bright eyes of his son.


	19. A new Dawn

"Your grace," Lord Tywin greeted, as he entered the council chamber early the next morning. "I do believe congratulations are in order. The whole realm celebrates the birth of Prince Daeron."

"Do not forget his daughter, Tywin," Lord Steffon reminded the man jovially, as he strolled into the council chamber. "Twins, a son and a daughter, your marriage is truly blessed, your grace."

Rhaegar nodded a pleasant smile on his face the entire time. There was nothing that could ruin his mood on this day. Not even the rather informal pat on the shoulder he got from Steffon, who seemed to be in a jolly mood this morning. At least he had not hugged him, Rhaegar would not have known what to do then. Lord Steffon is family, albeit distant kin, but he seemed to disregard most rules of decorum and propriety at that very moment.

"I hope the queen has endured the whole ordeal well," Steffon continued.

"The queen is a strong woman, Steffon. The Grand Maester had been most surprised about how easy the birth had been and how quickly she seems to recover from it," Tywin answered in Rhaegar's stead.

The king only watched his Hand silently, as he made sure to remember that apparently, Pycelle was a little too open with news about the health and condition of the royal family. As Hand of the King Lord Tywin was privy to a great many things, but such knowledge should not have been shared by anyone other than the king and queen themselves. He would have to reprimand the Grand Maester for this later.

"I always knew that there was something special about the girl. The first moment I saw her in Myr there had been something about her, something almost magical," Steffon said before he laughed.

For a moment Rhaegar had almost been convinced that the lord of Storm's End knew more than he let on. But now it seemed more like a jest. Or maybe Steffon really knew about Senna's secret. His son, Robert, was one of the chosen few Senna had shown her true self to and telling a habitual drunk about important secrets is rarely a good idea…

Another person entered moments later, a woman. Princess Elia, one of Senna's closest companions. The Dornish princess looked weary, but she soldiered on against whatever urge she might have to fall asleep on the spot. After Senna had fallen asleep from exhaustion, it had been Elia who had stayed to watch over the children. By the looks, she had yet to get some sleep herself. But it was this kind of loyalty that Senna seemed to inspire in the men and women she allowed to get close to her. And it was why Rhaegar had begun to value Senna's opinions on certain people more and more. She seemed to be a very good at finding the right people.

"Your grace, my lords," she curtsied before them. "I bring news from the queen."

She handed Rhaegar a scroll, which he read immediately. He chuckled in amusement, as he read Senna's idea… no, her orders for the obligatory feast the royal family would host to celebrate the birth of the royal heir. Even though there would be at the very least a week or two before the preparations would be finished, she couldn't wait to make her wishes known.

"Let me guess, my dearest wife had originally wanted to come here herself," he asked Elia in amusement.

The princess smiled politely, as she tried to stifle a laugh of her own, "It had taken three ladies and four knights to convince her that she should rest a little more, so I have volunteered to bring you her message."

"I see," was Rhaegar's only reply, as he handed Senna's message to Tywin, "As Hand of the King I believe this should be your problem."

Tywin read the message in silence, his face an impassive mask. Only when he finished, Rhaegar was sure that he saw some sort of annoyance, which the lord managed to mask just as quickly as it had appeared.

"This is preposterous. We are in the middle of a Winter and no one can tell for how much longer it will last," Tywin told him, "I can understand her to wish to involve the smallfolk in this celebration. Her obsession with these people is well known in all corners of the Seven Kingdoms, but this simply cannot be done."

In a moment of inattention, Steffon snatched the scroll from Tywin's hands and read it himself. The amused smirk he had sported before never wavered even once. "Hard, maybe. If we try to do it only with the grain in our depots here in the capital. But we have more than enough gold in the treasury to buy everything needed to fulfill the queen's wish from the traders that arrive from the south and the Free Cities."

"I agree with Lord Steffon on this. Feeding the people like this will also quell some of the unrest we have in the city. Even if it is only bread and water, the people will cherish her for it," Rhaegar said. "Lord Steffon, as my master of coin I order you to do your utmost to procure whatever is needed to see this done."

"Your grace, this folly will put a sizable dent in the treasury. With the growing unrest we might soon see the need to pay for other things, more important things," Tywin insisted.

War. Tywin wasn't the only one who saw the constant attacks on the queen as a sign of public unrest. A rebellion in the making, one that they would need to put down without restraint. Senna didn't see the blame amongst the common people and neither did he. They both knew that there was another power behind these attack. But explaining the cult without revealing dangerous secrets about Senna was almost impossible.

"Then I shall see to it that everything is paid with Peverell gold," Senna announced loudly, as she stalked into the hall like a predator on the hunt. She looked darkly at Tywin, as she approached the men. Several of her knights were hot on her heels.

"Your grace, you should rest," Elia chided gently, as she rushed to Senna's side.

"Elia, for your loyalty and devotion I love you like a sister, but do not coddle me. I am fine," Senna growled.

"She is right, my love. Do not strain yourself too much. It has not even been a day," Rhaegar told her, as he watched her with some worry.

"You of all people should know that I am much stronger than any of these people would give me credit for," she replied with a taunting smirk. "And this won't take long. I have no intention to be away from my children for longer than absolutely necessary." Then she turned towards Tywin once more. "So, Lord Tywin, if you are so concerned with a treasury that is filled to the brim, then I will see to it that everything will be paid for from my family's considerable fortune."

A sour look appeared on Tywin's face, as he considered all the negative consequences this would have for them all. It was obvious that Senna would have her will, at least unless her own husband and king would argue against it. But with Rhaegar supporting her idea there was no stopping it. But Tywin also knew that one way or another, the people would find out who had paid for their food. If it was the royal family, it might quell the desire for rebellion for a time… but if the only one who had paid for it was their beloved queen, Senna would take all these people and make them hers alone. Rhaegar wanted to laugh, when he realized how devious her act of goodwill really was.

"That will not be necessary. To minimize the strain on the royal treasury, House Lannister will play its part in this and cover some of the expenses," Tywin told her darkly.

"As will House Baratheon," Steffon added quickly.

"And you can count on House Martell as well. I will write my brother immediately," Elia told her queen.

Senna smiled warmly at the Dornish princess, before she pulled them woman into a hug, "I can't thank you enough for all you are doing, Elia. And of course, I am also grateful for the help offered here from you, my lords." That her exuberant thanks were solely meant for the Dornish princess had not been lost on either Tywin or Steffon, but the latter showed no ill feelings. Tywin, on the other hand, obviously saw more much more symbolism in her actions.

And Rhaegar was sure that neither Steffon nor Tywin had seen it, but by the way Arthur had to keep himself from chuckling, it was obvious that the knight had. The look of triumph on Senna's face, hidden from most people when she hugged her friend. How utterly devious, he could only love her more for that.

* * *

It wasn't much later, that Senna returned to her room. Daeron and Alysanne were still sleeping, much to her relief. A few more moments of rest. Though she would never admit it, she was still very tired. Giving birth had been the single most exhausting thing she had done in all her different lives. But it had also been the most rewarding struggle. Just watching her children sleep put a smile on her lips and filled her with a feeling of warmth and love.

"They are very pretty, your grace. All others will pale in comparison to them," Mina told her.

The young Tyrell girl had watched her children in her absence. Together with Ashara. Elia had wanted to come back as well, but Senna had given her the strict order to go to bed. She had already done enough. And it was time to involve her other ladies a bit more. Well, not Cersei. She wouldn't leave that conniving girl alone with her children. Not even for a single heartbeat.

"This is a cruel world," Senna muttered, "They are not a day old, but they already have more enemies that any child should ever have to fear. But none of those people will get close enough to harm them. I will not allow it." The whole realm would see that the fire of their queen would always burn the brightest and all those who try to strike at her family would feel the wrath of the dragon and the phoenix.

"Neither will we, your grace," Ser Garth Hightower, the knight she had left in charge of her children's safety for the moment, answered with a proud look on his face. The grand-nephew of the late Lord Commander Gerold Hightower was by far the most dutiful of the knights sworn to her, so he was the most sensible choice as the guard of her children after he had proven his loyalty through his exemplary service. "All the knights in the Seven Kingdoms will defend the royal family if need be."

Senna smiled kindly at the man, even though she did not share his enthusiasm. The vast majority of the knights serve themselves and their liege lords first and foremost. And there were plenty of people, knights, and others, who would murder even a little baby for the right amount of coin.

"Myles," she called out to the other knight in the room, who had been her husband's squire not long ago.

"Yes, your majesty?" the knight who had stood guard near the door stepped forward, eager to serve as he always was.

"Have Thoros and his men returned yet?" Senna asked him

Myles expression quickly turned somber, "Not yet, your majesty. We have not heard from them since they had entered the tunnels beneath the city."

Senna's worry grew, as she could not imagine what might have detained her men. She had sent a hundred of them, more than enough to deal with any congregation of mislead peasants and gullible soldiers. Lead by their ardent faith, these men would be stopped by nothing but… death itself…

"Are you alright, your majesty," Myles asked, as he saw the troubled look on her face.

"Something is wrong, Myles," she replied, "They should be back by now. Or at the very least Thoros would have sent a messenger to inform me about his progress."

She looked towards her children for a long moment. They were sleeping soundly. So little, so innocent… and so vulnerable. Even with knights protecting them, it was only their mother who could offer the true protection they would require. From enemies… and from themselves. She hadn't believed it at first, but now that she had children of her own she could feel it. The subtle connection a witch had to her children. Even now it was still there, even though they no longer draw their own power from her magic. Daeron and Alysanne had, for better or worse, inherited the full brunt of their mother's powers. And if their development will be anything like her own had been, they would start showing uncontrollable bouts of accidental magic before even reaching their first name day. And she was the only one who would be able to guide them through it.

But as she saw her children, she also knew that she would need as many loyal men and women as possible to protect them. And right at this moment, the majority of her men are missing. She would have to find them… or at least make arrangements to have them found by other people she can trust. She would need her husband's help for this.

But as she reached the door to search for her husband, it was opened before her and Rhaegar stepped in. He had been chatting amicably with Ser Arthur but fell silent when he saw her and the look of distress on her face.

"Has anything happened, my love?" he asked her.

"My men have not returned from their last mission. I need to find out what has happened to them. Their lives are my responsibility," she told him, a sense of urgency in her voice and bearing.

"No," Rhaegar said calmly, as he shook his head, "Our children need you now, first and foremost. A child cannot be without its mother, especially not when they are barely a day old, Senna."

"I am very well aware of that, Rhaegar, which is why I must ask for your help in this."

"Your men will be found. This burden is not yours to shoulder alone. You sent them out for the sake of our family, so let your family help resolve this matter," Rhaegar said, as he raised his hand and caressed her cheek. "Arthur will take some men and search for your missing guards."

"I shall do my utmost to find them," Ser Arthur vowed, as he inclined his head in respect.

Senna sighed deeply. It would seem that she would have to stay away from the fight for a little bit longer. For her children's sake. And for her own, her magic had just begun to return to a more controllable state after the pregnancy. "Very well. Myles, please go with them. You were there when Thoros had planned last night's raid."

"At once, your majesty," Myles replied eagerly.

"I entrust this duty to you, Arthur," she told her husband's friend and protector. "Please bring back my men, dead or alive. Even the fallen deserve a proper burial."

"I shall, your grace," Arthur replied, "By your leave," he looked towards Rhaegar to be dismissed from his duty for the time being.

"Go. But be careful. I don't even want to imagine what danger could delay my wife's devotees," the king couldn't fully hide his own worry. But Senna knew that few people enjoyed as much trust as Ser Arthur. The only one the king would consider abler would likely be Lord Commander Selmy.

The knight left quickly, followed by Myles. Rhaegar remained and quickly walked over to his children. Senna followed him, a bit slower than him, as her thoughts were still so far away from this room. Only when she heard a sharp cry from one of the cribs, her mind snapped back to the situation at hand.

"It would seem that Alysanna has woken up," Mina commented, as she stood next to the babe's crib.

Senna was quickly by her side and picked her daughter up, rocked the girl slightly. Alysanne stopped screaming but was still squeamish. Moments later her brother awoke with the same thunderous demand for attention that his sister had shown before. Ashara was about to take the boy from his crib to bring him closer to his mother when Rhaegar beat her to it. The proud father was more than happy to hold his son, as he walked over to his wife.

"So small, but already this loud," Rhaegar said with a liberated laugh, "As if he already knows of his station he demands the attention of those around him."

"That has to be a Targaryen thing. I've been told that I had been a most behaved and uncomplicated child," Senna told him with a crooked smirk.

An almost rueful smirk crossed her husband's face for a moment. Then he said, "I don't know much about myself at this age. My mother rarely talked. She considered it inappropriate to speak of such things. And my father, I doubt he ever even had me in his arms when I was a babe. He had barely begun to take notice of Viserys before his death, so why would it have been different with me..."

"Queen Rhaella had been a good woman and I am sure she had been a good mother to you," Senna told him quietly, "But we both know that your father had little of her clemency and love."

"He was cold, but he had not always been the monster you have met," Rhaegar said, "But I don't want to be the kind of father he had been," he looked down at his son, who seemed to stare back at him with his bright big eyes. It was such a peaceful moment, that Senna wished it would last forever.

* * *

"It was here that they entered, Ser Arthur," Myles said, as he showed the knight the entrance to the tunnels, which he and Thoros had scouted a few days prior.

The entrance was hidden in one of the canals. Usually, a gate made of thick steel bars was supposed to make it impossible to enter, but the bars here were deformed by some great force, enough to allow a normal man easy enough entry into the tunnels that stretch below the entire city.

"If the steel wasn't enough to keep people out, the stench alone should have kept any living soul away," Jaime Lannister sneered, as he followed them. As Ser Arthur's squire he had tagged along on this little adventure of theirs, even despite the knight's warning that there was a good chance of finding nothing but death.

"You don't like the smell here, you will definitely hate it inside," Myles commented, as he pushed past the young Lannister. "We went inside for a bit when we found it and I could barely stand it for longer than a couple of minutes. The air is stale and filled with decay and rot."

"Wonderful," Jaime sighed.

"Jaime, come here. Stay close to me," Ser Arthur ordered, as he was the first to enter the tunnel.

Jaime was next to follow, barely hesitating despite the nauseating smell. Myles waited a bit longer, giving the other men Ser Arthur had brought the chance to enter before him. When it was his turn, he hesitated. They had brought fifty gold cloaks and knights with them. Thoros had twice as many and they had not returned… he had a really bad feeling about that. He took one more deep breath, which he regretted quickly before he pushed past the steel bars and entered.

Inside it was just as dark as it had been the first time he had been here. The men had brought plenty of torches, knowing that they were about to descend into a dark abyss. But even the brightest torch seemed like a small flicker in the all-consuming darkness around them.

"Ser Arthur, look here," Jaime called out.

Myles followed the knight to see what the young Lannister had found. On one of the walls had been a marking, carved in with a sword or any other sharp and hard enough object to damage the brittle stone.

"Is that supposed to be a bird or something?" Myles wondered.

"With a bit of imagination… or enough alcohol to cloud your mind, one might see the queen's heraldic animal in this," Arthur mused.

"Well Thoros is usually drunk to some extent," Myles tried to joke, but no one could laugh about that, "He must have marked the path they have taken."

Arthur nodded curtly, "It would seem sensible. Let's see if we can find more markings."

And they did. Not just symbols, but also simple markings that showed where they had gone. It made following their path through the darkness beneath the city somewhat easier. But they could also see how the mood of the men had changed the longer they had been down here. There was an almost artistic appeal to their earliest markings, a great eye for detail, especially when it comes to symbols of the queen. Yet the farther they came, the more simplified and sloppy their markings became. In the end, they were little more than an arrow showing where they had gone.

"Just how long are these tunnels," Myles wondered loudly. "It feels as if we had been down here for days."

"Don't let the darkness fool you, boy," Ser Arthur told him, "We have barely been here for a few hours at best."

Hours and nothing but darkness where they had come from and where they were going. No forward, no back. Only two directions into the same abyss.

"Jaime, don't stray too far ahead," Ser Arthur admonished his squire, as the young Lannister had distanced himself from them too much. Without his torch, the darkness would have already swallowed him.

"There is something up ahead. An exit maybe," Jaime yelled back. His voice echoed from the walls.

Myles was sure that Ser Arthur was frowning. And why would he not? They had only descended the entire time. There was no chance that they would find an exit this deep underneath the city. So the knight and the rest of the men quickened their pace to catch up to the squire.

When they had finally reached Jaime, the boy was already standing at the entrance to a large room… and the sight of carnage. Dozens, maybe hundreds of dead bodies, left to rot. Rats had begun to encroach on this unmarked tomb and the feast they had been given.

"By the Seven," Ser Arthur exclaimed in shock, "Just what has happened here?"

Myles pushed past the knight and entered the room himself. What he saw were his queen's men, slain. But there were even more men and women, who had most likely been the last of the cultists in King's Landing. Yet no one could have guessed that there had been so many of them left…

"Check for survivors," Ser Arthur ordered his men. "And find Commander Thoros."

"This is an ungodly mess. Just look at them, I doubt that some mere cultists would have been able to slaughter them all like this," Myles said, as he inspected on of the queen's men. Someone had nearly split the man in half, from the shoulder down to the navel.

"Ser Arthur, we have found the commander," one of the men yelled. He stood near an altar, bowed over a body on the ground.

When they got closer they could see the red robes that Thoros of Myr had been seen wearing at all times. He was face down on the ground, covered in a strange dust, a sword stuck in his chest all the way to the hilt. His last fight had cost him dearly, but the question remained, what had become of his opponent?

"Looks like the commander went down fighting for his queen," Jaime quipped, "Good for him."

"Show some respect for this man," Myles hissed.

"I am. He died fighting for the queen, sound like just the thing these zealots dream of," the young Lannister sneered.

"Ser Arthur, we've found a survivor," one of the men said, as he brought a man towards them. He wore the same armor that all of the queen's guard had been outfitted with, though his was covered in dents and blood. He was leaning heavily on the man who had found him.

"What has happened here?" Ser Arthur demanded to know, his expression grim.

"We ambushed them. Slaughtered them before they even knew what was happening," the man said in between labored breaths.

"What? Was it so dark that your men mistook each other for enemies then?" Jaime sneered. "This carnage looks more like you have been the ones who got ambushed."

"Their leader… he was a monster. No matter how much we hit him, he just continued cutting through our ranks..." he paused, to take another deep breath and maybe to calm himself. "The commander could hurt him. Only fire could hurt him. Lord of Light forgive us… we've failed him and the queen." Moments later he collapsed. Exhaustion had taken its toll, but if they made it out of this place in due time, he would likely live.

"Just what has happened here? All of this had been the work of one man?" Ser Arthur grumbled.

Myles couldn't believe it either. He certainly hoped that Thoros had killed that beast, else they all might not make it out of this tomb after all.

"Gather the wounded and the queen's dead guards. We are leaving. The less time we spend in this darkness the better," Arthur said before he turned away from them.

"Just what kind of horrors has the queen unleashed upon us?" Jaime wondered loudly.

Myles wanted to reprimand the squire for blaming the queen, but even he couldn't deny that any of these things had been heard of before she had come to this city… Her enemies, this cult, the more they found out, the clearer it was that they were not just some sort of religious fools. Something else was going on, behind the scenes and maybe only the queen could really tell what it was.

* * *

Senna sighed deeply, as she watched her reflection in the mirror. One of her handmaidens was just about to finish her fussing with the red gown the queen had decided to wear for her somber task, but for once, Senna wasn't so happy that this hassle was over. The sooner she was done here, the sooner she would have to face tonight's melancholic duty. When she had awoken the day before, she had felt a happiness unlike she had ever felt before… and now this happiness seemed just a far away memory, replaced by the crushing feeling of guilt.

The door to her room suddenly opened. She had half expected it to be Rhaegar or one of her ladies, but instead, she saw a little boy, half hidden behind the wooden door.

"Sister, are you alright? You look so sad," Viserys said, as he slipped into the room.

The four-year-old boy looked at her with wide eyes, unsure what to do. And who could fault him? The last time he had seen her in such a mood had been the day they had buried his mother. She hadn't spent nearly as much time with after that as she had once planned to, mostly due to her struggle against the cult and her pregnancy, but even despite the distance, she had unwittingly put between them, the young prince still seemed to crave for her attention…

"Don't worry, Viserys. Everything will be alright soon," she said, as she knelt next to the boy, despite the protests of her handmaiden, who was still busy with the blasted gown. "Have you visited your new niece and nephew yet?" she asked in an attempt to steer the conversation towards a happier topic.

The boy nodded enthusiastically, a bright smile on this face. "They are so small, but brother said that if I study hard I can one day teach Daeron how to fight!"

The boy seemed extremely proud about this. Senna couldn't keep the smile from her face, despite her mood, as she imagined this. Something like this would still be years in the future, but no matter, it seemed to bring Viserys great joy and a good reason to excel in his own studies. The Grand Maester had just begun the general education of the prince and she knew from experience how dry and boring those first few years would be. Anything to motivate him would be welcome.

"One day Daeron will be king, Viserys, and you, you will be his greatest dragon rider, like Prince Aemon the Dragonknight," Senna told him.

"I get a dragon? A real one?"

"When you are old enough, we can try to hatch another," she said. This seemed to make the prince even happier. He even jumped towards her and draped his little arms around her neck in a tight hug.

It was that moment when Rhaeagar entered and saw them like this. Her husband smiled warmly at this scene and said nothing until Viserys saw him and let go of her.

"Brother, I will get a dragon!" Viserys exclaimed loudly. Rhaegar's expression remained guarded for a moment as if he was unsure how to react to this.

"When you are ready. So you better go and continue your studies, Viserys," Senna chided him lightly. "Go now, it's getting late and you shouldn't be out of bed at this late hour." The boy nodded quickly and hugged her again.

"Ser Harlan, please see to it that my brother reaches his rooms without delay," Rhaegar order one the knights who followed him. The old man quickly sprung to action and lead the young prince out of the room, leaving the king and queen alone, except for the ever discrete handmaidens who stood in a corner, waiting for their queen to call upon them.

"A dragon?" Rhaegar finally asked Senna, after he had fully grasped what his brother had just told him. "You want to give him a dragon?"

"When he is older, one of the dragons shall be his," she told him calmly. "Daeron will inherit the throne and once the time has come, he will also get the dragon I want to hatch for you, but I do not want Viserys to feel left out. It will be hard enough that he will one day have to bow to his own nephew, I will not make him feel slighted or unwanted."

"I see," Rhaegar replied, "You will be a good mother, to all of them."

All of them. It wasn't just about her own little babies, but also about Viserys and Daenerys. Rhaegar and she were all the children had left and all of them would need attention and guidance. As queen, she would be the one to guide them, seeing as their own mother was gone.

"Our family mustn't falter," Senna replied strongly, "I cannot allow myself to fail them."

Rhaegar nodded, as he pulled her into a gentle embrace. "Nothing will ever be easy. But we will succeed," he said. "But will you be alright, tonight? If you would allow me to..."

"No, Rhaegar," she told him swiftly, "We have talked about this. You mustn't be seen there. It is my duty as their queen."

"Yet I can see how much this burden drags you down. You can fool my little brother, but I can see that this is hurting you!"

"And how could it not hurt me!" she exclaimed, "I have sent almost a hundred men to their deaths, Rhaegar. Men who have left their lives in Myr behind to serve me, all because of the manipulations of some damn priestess. I have failed them..."

"Much more will die for us, my love. We are the royal family of this realm and if it ever comes to war, we will send much more to their deaths. These men fought for you, for our family, because they believed it was the right thing to do. Honor their sense of duty, but do not despair. If it is too much to bear, I will be there for you."

It was in that moment, that she let go of him and gently pushed away. She forced another smile on her lips, as she answered, "You are right, Rhaegar. I will honor them tonight, in the way, they would have wanted. But I have to do this alone. The High Septon hates me, that will never change. They know that the followers of the red god seek me out and praise me. But I don't want you near their rituals and sermons. I will be strong and you will be what the realm needs you to be. Their faith is important and I don't want to give them any reason to doubt the commitment of House Targaryen to the faith and traditions of the Seven Kingdoms. Let me be the evil foreigner if it makes that fat man in his fancy dress happy."

"Fat man in a fancy dress," Rhaegar replied with a laugh, "What an apt description. I will have to write it down somewhere."

"I will go now," she told him. She stepped closer once more and pressed an almost chaste kiss to his lips before she went for the door. "I will return very late tonight, so don't worry if I am not there when you wake up at night."

* * *

As she finished the chants of the Lord of Light, she raised her hand and slowly began to cast her spell. Her control of magic had returned to a sufficient degree, that she dared to use magical fire in this ceremony. Fiendfyre, as hard to control as it was, would suit her best in this situation. A spell as dark as this came much easier when the mind is filled with anger and gloom.

The fire that escaped from the palm of her hand slowly crept from one pyre to another, setting them and the dead on fire. Those of her men who remained now watched in amazement and sang the songs they had learned at the temples.

One hundred and fifty had come with her from Myr. Now, not even two full years later, only thirty-nine remained. Worse yet, Thoros, a man she had come to respect and see as a friend despite his habits, had died as well. His loss would change much for her. But at the moment she dared not think about that.

"You did wonderfully, my dear."

Senna almost shuddered as she heard the voice of the priestess behind her. Of all the times, of all the situations, Melisandre had appeared now and here. Impeccable timing as always, to come and pick up the pieces, to reassemble them as she sees fit.

"Isn't it odd," Senna replied, "I have sent so many of their brothers to their deaths, yet with every pyre I lit, the fire in their eyes only shines brighter..."

"You are our lord's chosen. Your son is the promised child, Azor Ahai," Melisandre said. "You play your part in the lord's plan well."

"I do not believe in your prophecies," Senna scoffed, "My son is just that, my child, not your promised savior."

"Time will tell. But even you must believe in something and you wouldn't have dressed in his colors and chanted his praise if you did not believe in him. I've told you before, you are the living proof of our Lord's work in this world. Your abilities are his gift. He has shown me the truth in the flames, even in the fire you have lit here, I can see it clearly. Your son is the prince who has promised."

"Is that why you are here?"

"I swore that I would be there to guide Azor Ahai. It is the duty our Lord has to give me in this world. First to educate you and help you master his gifts, and now I will guide your son."

Senna shook her head. She really did not like this. Thoros, despite him being a red priest, was somewhat accepted at court and in the city because of his less than zealous tendencies. But Melisandre… she would endanger them all by staying here and repeating her claims that Daeron is the prince who was promised. A religious struggle was the last thing they would need now.

"No," Senna told the priestess, "My son and his education are my duty. I am his mother and you are nothing to him." She had expected some sort of reaction from Melisandre, but instead, the woman smiled almost benignly at her.

"Your path is a different one, my dear, and you know it. Your war against the shadows has only just begun. Thoros had not been the best of us, but he, too, saw this greatness in you. Like him, countless others will follow you into the darkness. Legions of faithful will come to pledge themselves to your cause and you will stand at the head of an army of light when your son is ready to strike at the darkness and banish it forever."

"My parents followed your faith, I don't. Accept the truth already," Senna argued back, "I am not your savior and neither is my son. Those great horror stories about the Long Night are nothing more than tales we tell children to scare them."

"Yet here you stand, wielding the powers that only our Lord can grant a champion of his own choosing," Melisandre replied calmly. Whereas Senna was beginning to get more and more agitated, the priestess remained unfazed by her former student's words of denial.

Senna meanwhile groaned in annoyance. If only this woman really knew where her powers had come from. But she had her doubts that Melisandre would believe the story about the indescribable entity called Death and the tales of rebirth. Or worse, she would claim that Death is in truth the Lord of Light… the idea was so preposterous that it was almost funny again.

"Look at you, my dear, you are the one true queen among our Lord's followers. Just look at you now. Dressed in his colors, but more than a mere priestess. These men will gladly give their lives for you and with each step you take their loyalty only grows. More will be here soon, to do as they do. To serve the one true queen."

"Don't say such things," Senna groaned, "Do you have any idea what would happen, should a whole army of your lord's followers show up here to pledge themselves to me? I was able to convince the lords of this realm that those who had come the last time were merely an honor guard sent by the magisters of Myr. But this..."

"They will learn that their childish heresy will not protect them from the darkness and the night," Melisandre said simply, "And those who will see the truth will follow you and your children without question, without hesitation."

It was as if she was trying to discuss this topic with a mountain. Melisandre was unyielding in her belief and almost oblivious to the danger she was to her family. Something had to be done about this.

"I cannot allow you to remain in this city. Neither can I allow a whole army of faithful to march through this city, where this inept moron of a High Septon does not pass on any chance to rile people up against me," she sighed again, as she considered her options. Nothing short of violence would deter Melisandre now, but there was also some lingering affection for the mentor who had more or less cared for her after her parents' untimely deaths. "You cannot stay in King's Landing, but I have another idea. When I married Rhaegar, he pledged Summerhall to me. The keep there still needs to be fully rebuilt, but once that is done I intend to make good use of it. Go there and take the brunt of your faithful with you if you must. Rebuild that place in my name, but stay clear of King's Landing."

"My dear, this is only the beginning of a new age," Melisandre replied, not telling whether she would follow Senna's order or not. "A new dawn has come."

Just as the priestess said this, the sun slowly rose on the horizon, slowly banishing the dark night. And as the last embers of the pyres glowed in red and gold, Senna couldn't shake the feeling that this was truly only the beginning…


	20. Reveille

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year! Let's hope 2017 will start better than 2016 has ended.

Senna watched in silence, as young Viserys and Lord Tyrell's oldest son, Willas Tyrell, played jolly in the gardens of the Red Keep. She was glad that the young prince had found a friend in the other boy, especially after Willas' father had shown such great enthusiasm to see his son befriend the royal family.

Mace Tyrell was quite the odd man, at least Senna saw it that way. He was not the best kind of man to rule, in fact she would give him anything bigger than a small holdfast in an unimportant corner of a frozen wasteland and he still might be overwhelmed without help. But what he lacked in skill, or backbone… or just about anything, the man made up with his eagerness. Eagerness to please his king, most of the time. Rhaegar liked Mace well enough to indulge the man's delusions every now and then, so it came as no surprise when the lord of the Reach proposed to deepen the friendship between Houses Targaryen and Tyrell by bringing his son to court as a companion for the children in the royal family.

Seeing the two boys now, Senna was glad that it had come to this. Even though Willas was a few years older than Viserys, he had adapted well to his new life in the Red Keep. It went so well, that Rhaegar had even considered extending invitations to other younglings as well. Lord Steffon seemed more than amenable to bringing his youngest son with him the next time he visits Storm's End. Rhaegar had yet to give the man an answer to this offer. Too deep was the distrust because of Steffon's strong friendship with Tywin Lannister, though Senna was far more open to the suggestion due to her friendship with Robert and her refusal to judge any child for the sins of the father.

Yet it was a decision Senna would leave solely to Rhaegar. For the time being she had detached herself from the day to day ruling of the realm, focusing solely on the two most important tasks in her life. The eradication of the cult and the care of her children.

Though she would never admit it to the priestess, Melisandre had provided much needed support after nearly all of Senna's men had died while cleansing the capital from the cultists. Summerhall was nearly rebuilt, with slight modifications that the priestess had deemed necessary. And better yet, with so many followers of the red god traveling through Westeros these days, they now had a steady source of information and rumors from most corners of the Seven Kingdoms. Sooner or later every follower of the Lord of Light in Westeros would travel to Summerhall to honor their revered Phoenix Queen, as Melisandre had dubbed her some years ago.

Of course, the sudden increase in followers of a foreign religion had caused some trouble with the High Septon, but for the moment, the abominable man had kept his qualms to himself, mostly because he had no proof that the Queen was trying to convert the realm to the eastern religion. And the mere fact that Senna was still beloved by the smallfolk made her enemies cautious. She was aware the threat these men pose was still there, but their choices were severely limited now.

So for once, Senna's life seemed at least mostly peaceful. She would always savor these moments for as long as they last. After her two previous lives, she had plenty of experience with the chaos that usually follows after even the shortest moments of happiness.

"Stay here, Daenerys, let your brother and his friend play," she said softly, as picked Rhaegar's sister up, to keep her from running away again. The child was far too curious for age. Or maybe not. Senna wasn't entirely sure how a child at Daenerys' age should behave like. She wasn't proud that she had even missed much of Daenarys' first years due to her own pregnancy and other troubles… Only after the twins had been born, Senna had taken a more active role in the young princess' life. And Daenerys, just like Viserys, had soaked up every little bit of attention Senna and Rhaegar would show her. Not to mention that both adored their new niece and nephew.

Daeron and Alysanne had barely reached the age to make their first attempts at crawling around and only Alysanne had managed to say her first words. Funnily enough, the girl's first word had been an attempt to call for Senna's phoenix companion. The queen had been quite surprised, when she heard Alysanne brabble Fawfaw for the first time. It was only by mere coincidence, that Senna had caught Fawks once, as the Phoenix sat next to the beds of the twins late at night and sang to them. She hadn't seen the bird for months before that, but ever since, Fawks had come at least every other day to watch over the children. Even now, he sat on the branch of a tree not far from them.

"Your grace," Myles joined the family, a sealed letter in his hand. "His majesty has asked me to bring you this." 

"Rhaegar won't join us today?"

"Sadly there has been a matter he needs to resolve with the Small Council. I do not know what it is about, but the council has gathered this morning and the session has yet to end."

Senna frowned as she heard this. Whatever trouble there is, no matter would usually keep the council in seclusion for this long. She wondered what might have happened. Her own spies had not reported anything unusual these past months. Whatever was left of the cult had gone into hiding and the rest of the realm remained peaceful due to the ongoing winter. It was pretty much the only good thing about the blasted winter.

"Are you cold, Myles?" she asked when she saw him shudder.

"I am fine, your grace. It is just a bit chilly," Myles responded stubbornly.

Senna laughed lightly and shook her head. "Forgive me, my friend, I have grown so accustomed to maintaining warming charms on me and my children that I tend to forget that others don't have the same luxury." With a wave of her hand she cast a charm on her knight, so he wouldn't look so miserable while he waited for her to read the letter.

"Thank you, you grace, but this wouldn't have been necessary. Please don't waste your strength on me for such menial things," Myles said.

Senna smirked, "Too late. The others objected as well and much more intently, so they stand here feeling miserable for the time being. Your pride and concern for me are well meant, but I am by no means weak and now that I am no longer pregnant I can very well maintain something as simple as a warming charm on a dozen or more people at once. But alas, they wanted their pride, so they freeze."

But the children would not freeze. They could enjoy the sunny day outside, well protected from any danger and just be children. None the less she hoped that the winter would come to an end soon. Winters that last for years… she would never get used to this. In her past lives the winters had last for a few short months and she much preferred it that way. She could only wonder why these cold times were this much longer in this world, though she had heard rumors that the winters had become longer after the death of the last dragon. Now she would have to wait and see whether Draco's presence would shorten this winter. If it did, she would gladly try to raise the number of dragons so high that the chilly days would be all but forgotten...

She finally had a look at the letter. To her surprise it had not been from Rhaegar, but from Eddard instead. She hadn't heard from the young Stark since he had left for Winterfell more than a year ago. By the looks of it the letter had not been opened before, so it was safe to assume that Rhaegar had gotten his hands on it before Lord Tywin, who seemed very intent on knowing everything. Though she couldn't prove it yet, she was sure that the man knew every single word of her ongoing corospondence with both Lady Melisandre and her friends in Myr. Tywin obviously did not trust her, but not just because she was a foreigner that had taken the place he had wanted for his daughter. He didn't seem to be so petty to dislike her just because of a missed chance to gain power.

"Myles, when has this letter arrived?"

"Just this morning, your grace. The rider had pushed his horse close to death to make it her with all haste," Myles answered.

Senna was surprised by this. She wondered just why Eddard had not sent a raven instead. It would have been faster. Though a trusted rider would always be the safer choice to see to it that a message is delivered to the right person. Now that made her even more curious about the contents of the letter, so she swiftly broke the seal and pulled out the parchment inside.

She immediately recognized Eddard's handwriting. On point and never wasteful of ink, his penmanship was easy to read. And thankfully, he spared her the need to skim the letter, due to his no nonsense style of writing. Yet that didn't make the content of the letter any less troubling. She had been aware of the troubles in the North. Ned's father had been missing for a long time and had been declared dead several months before. But now it would seem that things had gotten even worse. His older brother and his sister were missing as well, which made her wonder just what kind of danger was lurking in the cold north of the realm. Eddard had been declared Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North due to this, which angered Senna quite a bit. It wasn't that Ned had inherited all these responsibilities, but rather the fact that Rhaegar had not mentioned this to her before despite knowing that she considers Eddard a close friend and ally.

"Is everything alright, your grace?" Myles asked, concern quite evident on his face and in the tone of his voice. It would seem that the letter distressed her enough to allow her mask to slip for the slightest moment, something that she didn't want to happen around the children. She wanted the children to know their parents as loving and friendly and keep the away from the sorrow and trouble of the world for as long as they could afford it.

"Myles, the rider… where is he?"

"They brought the boy to the kitchens to get him some food."

"So he is young?"

"I wasn't there when he arrived, your grace, but they said that he had barely grown out of boyhood," Myles replied, a confused look on her face as he tried to understand why she was suddenly concerned about this boy.

"See to it that he is taken care off and given proper rooms," Senna commanded.

"But..."

"Myles, it is a shame that our guards failed to recognize that this rider was not a normal boy, but a lord's son. He is Benjen Stark, the younger brother of Lord Eddard and youngest son of the late Lord Rickard Stark of Winterfell."

To think that Ned had really risked his brother's life like this… Did he not trust even his own bannermen? His plea to take care of his brother until the trouble in the North is resolved seemed almost desperate now that she thought about it. Now she wished she had made more of an attempt to get Lyanna to open up to her. She had barely spoken to Ned's sister before the girl had run away from the capital. Now she was missing, too, and Senna couldn't help herself but feel a tad bit guilty for this as well, since she had not done anything to help the girl adapt to this new environment. Maybe Lyanna would have stayed, had she shown at least the slightest interest in her.

"I will see to it at once, your grace," Myles replied promptly before he turned around and walked away at a brisk pace.

"Ser Denys, please find my ladies, I will need them to get the children back inside," she ordered the other knight nearby, "And inform my husband about our guest, I doubt that he knows about this, seeing as Lord Stark's letter had been addressed to me alone."

The knight nodded and moved towards the keep just as swiftly as Myles had before. Senna sighed as she looked around once more. Viserys and Willas were still playing, ever under the watchful eyes of Ser Lomas, whom she had appointed as their guard for the day. They knew nothing about the trouble in the realm and she was quite glad about it.

Daenerys was playing with Alysanne now, as she tried to help the little girl to walk. Senna smiled as she saw this scene. She wished she could linger for some more time, just watching their adorable attempts, but sadly this moment wouldn't last. Even Fawks had stopped singing. The Phoenix only watched her intently, as if he was judging her. She wondered why the first thing she thought about when looking at the Phoenix was judgment… Maybe it was because she judged herself, for each every one of her actions…

* * *

Young Benjen Stark wasn't sure what he was supposed to think… or feel for the matter, when his brother had sat him on a horse, gave him a letter to the queen and sent him on his way south. It was a dangerous gamble for sure.

As far as they knew, Lyanna had traveled alone as well and she had disappeared somewhere north of the neck. At least that was what some traveling merchants had claimed when they came to Winterfell in the hopes of selling their knowledge of the only daughter of House Stark. At least they hadn't been audacious enough to try and capture her… but if they had, Lyanna might still be with her family now.

But all of this, combined with the disappearances of Brandon and their father, had left Ned in great distress. Benjen could see his brother age rapidly with every day, as the worry and the burden of ruling the North were taking their toll on him. At the very least he had his best friend with him, so he wasn't alone.

Benjen wasn't sure why his brother didn't trust him to help as well. Instead, he had sent him to King's Landing and Benjen didn't even know why. No one had been informed about this, that much was obvious when he arrived and they thought him to be a simple messenger. Only later one of the queen's knights came to greet him properly and lead him to his rooms. And there had been since.

He could see the city from the windows of his room. The bustling metropolis, filled with more people than he had ever seen before. The North is large and sparsely populated, but just by looking at the streets below the imposing keep, he was sure that there were more people in just one street than inhabitants in all of Winterfell.

The door of his room suddenly opened and a knight entered. The man looked around, as if he was searching for something, before he left once more, not saying a single word the entire time. But as soon as he was out, she entered. The queen herself. There was no mistaking it. Ned had described her in great detail. But the words of Lord Baratheon were even closer to the truth. There isn't any woman quite like the queen. She wasn't just another Targaryen with silver-blond hair and lilac eyes. She looked vibrant, with an unearthly beauty that Benjen had never seen in the North. It was almost as if she was glowing, as her entire presence, her bearing, her gait, all spoke of great power. Yet her eyes were not cold like those of a person in power. His father's eyes had been hard and unyielding, a necessity for a high lord. But the queen… her eyes showed a gentleness and combined with the warmth of her smile, Benjen quickly understood why Ned was so fond of this queen.

She chuckled lightly and Benjen realized that he must have been staring for too long. A deep blush on his cheeks for getting caught, his eyes suddenly found the carpet beneath his feat far more interesting to stare at…

"It is easy to see that you are indeed Eddard's brother," the queen said gently, "You look very much alike, yet also very different. I only wish the circumstances of your visit to the capital had been better."

She showed him the letter his brother had written, now opened. He had no idea what Ned had written, but his brother had made clear that no one but the queen was supposed to read it. Now Benjen wasn't sure whether he had succeeded. The guards had taken the letter from him as soon as he had stated that the message was for the queen. But at the very least she had read it now.

"You have no idea about the contents of your brother's letter?" the queen asked him. He shook his head slowly, still anxious not to look at her for longer than absolutely necessary. He didn't want to make an even greater fool of himself. He was embarrassing not just himself, but the whole Stark family… which now only consisted of him and his brother…

"No, your majesty," Benjen replied meekly.

"Your brother is quite worried. The disappearance of your other family members has put him in a very difficult place. He is now the lord, in your brother's stead and it is a burden that he had never been trained for. It worries me greatly," she told him honestly. "But he has one request. Your brother has placed you in my care as my ward, at least until you are able to defend yourself."

Benjen's eyes widened as he heard this. He knew that his brother was worried, but to place him under the queen's care… that came as a great surprise. And he wasn't even sure what he was supposed to do now?

"What will become of me?" Benjen asked meekly.

The queen adopted a more thoughtful look, as the gentle smile left her face for some time. "In the end, that depends on you. If you want to be a scholar I will arrange for lessons with the Grand Maester and other educated men from all corners of the world. Or maybe you would rather fight, then you could become the squire of a knight. We don't have to decide this yet, so think about what you wish to do with your life. For now, you will be given rooms here in the keep befitting of your station and you will join my entourage."

"Yes, your majesty," Benjen replied simply. There was little he could do. His older brother had ordered this, the queen had agreed to it and now he would have to obey. But he could hide his bewilderment in the face of this dramatic change in his life.

* * *

It took all of his self-control, to keep Rhaegar from groaning in frustration, as the council discussed problem after problem. The darned winter had already caused more than a few troubles in all the corners of the realm. And now they had another problem to deal with.

The Kingswood, the majestic forest not far from King's Landing, had become even more dangerous than before. But unlike the problems his wife had made her sole responsibility, the trouble in the forest had not been caused by cultists or other religious zealots. No, the new trouble was solely caused by thieves and brigands.

"Our response to this must be nothing less than decisive and absolute," Tywin announced, "A thousand men in arms shall comb the forest and end this foolish rebellion."

"Not much of a rebellion," Steffon muttered, "Up until now these fools have merely robbed the merchants that pass through the forest. But to see them resort to kidnapping the daughters of noble houses now…" The lord of Storm's End looked grim, as he contemplated the situation. His scowl even deepened, when he realized something. "Your grace, has the queen been notified about this? The one they took is after all..."

"Not yet," Rhaegar replied quickly. He was still unsure how he was supposed to tell Senna about this. Her fury would know no bounds for sure. And with her dragon, who had by now grown big and strong enough to support his mistress on his back, it wouldn't come as a surprise, should Senna set out to hunt the brigands herself. Her protectiveness of those close to her would leave her with no other choice.

Oh, how he cursed their luck. As if it wasn't bad enough that several daughters of minor noble houses had been abducted in the forest, these brigands had dared to take one of his wife's closest friends as well.

Ashara Dayne had been on her way back from a visit to her family in Starfall when the merchant caravan she had traveled with had come under attack. Several guards had been killed, the gold and many other valuables had been stolen… and the lady had disappeared.

Senna wouldn't hesitate to act, for Ashara's sake. But Rhaegar dreaded the possible use of the dragon. The situation in the realm was precarious enough, there was no need to cause more fear and concern by having the queen's fire-breathing pet going on a rampage. And Rhaegar was sure that Senna would use the dragon. Ever since most of her men had died alongside Commander Thoros, she had relied more upon her knights to protect the family, instead of reassembling her personal guard in King's Landing. Of course, Rhaegar wasn't blind to what she was doing in Summerhall. The reports about the sheer number of eastern zealots who had moved there to serve their Phoenix Queen was quite troubling as well. But getting troups from Summerhall would take too long and Senna would wish to act immediately.

"Your grace, we must answer this attack suitably. Surely you agree to my plans regarding this uprising," Tywin insisted.

Rhaegar looked at the man, his face a hard mask, his eyes cold. Tywin was the only member of the council who stood. He leaned heavily on the map on the table before him, where they had marked the spots where attacks had happened. It was almost as if this was a war council…

"Do what must be done. But I want this situation resolved quickly and quietly. Take three thousand men. Ser Arthur and Ser Barristan shall lead them," Rhaegar ordered.

Tywin looked awfully intrigued by this choice. It wasn't that Rhaegar had authorized three times the number of soldiers for this campaign against a group of bandits, but rather the king's choice of commander. With Arthur at the front lines, his squire would be fighting as well. It would be the first time for Jaime Lannister to bloody his sword in real battle.

"I will get to it at once," Arthur said. He had stood guard behind Rhaegar the entire time and knew exactly why he had been chosen.

Rhaegar was no fool. And he knew his friend. Arthur wouldn't be able to sit back and let others do the fighting when his own sister's fate is unknown. And by sending the Lannister heir as well, it was all but assured that Tywin would do his utmost to see this campaign succeed.

"This meeting has concluded for today," Rhaegar finally announced. He felt weary and guilty for hiding Ashara's fate from Senna. But he had his reasons. At least he could be sure that none of the members of this council would reveal this incident. At least not until the army had left for the Kingswood. They just couldn't be sure whether there are any spies or sympathizers in the city.

But just as the members of the council left the chamber, Senna herself marched towards him. The look on her face was grim and he dreaded the reason why she would come to the council chamber by herself. She had avoided all politics for the sake of their children… But he wasn't sure what would be worse. Her already knowing about Ashara… or some other dastardly reason forcing her to get involved with the ruling of the realm.

"Rhaegar, we need to talk," she began. She sat down on the chair to his right and remained silent for some tense moments, before she continued, "The letter from Eddard..." she said, but stopped again.

Rhaegar frowned. Some part of him was glad that this wasn't about Ashara, but at the same time, he wondered just what the newly appointed Lord of Winterfell was up to now.

"I will need to leave the city for a few days," Senna said suddenly. "I don't want to leave our children alone, but I have to do this."

"Why?" Rhaegar demanded to know, "What has Lord Stark written?"

"It isn't about what he wrote, but rather what he did not tell me," she sighed, "Rhaegar, he has sent his younger brother here. He has asked me to take Benjen Stark as my ward, to protect him. Three members of his family have suddenly disappeared and something is clearly amiss. I need to find out what is going on in the North. So I will travel to Winterfell."

"It takes weeks to get to Winterfell. Even longer during a winter," Rhaegar exclaimed in concern. "I can send others to do this for you."

"Eddard is my friend. And Robert is up there as well. I can't abandon my friends just because making sure that they are alright is uncomfortable. And I will not use the Kingsroad. I will fly," she told him.

It was just what he had dreaded. She would make use of Draco, now that the dragon was big enough. And though this would ensure her safety and make the trip to the North a short one, this did nothing to dimish Rhaegar's worry and trepidation.

"Trust me, Rhaegar. I will just go to check up on my friends and find out what is happening. I can't rely on others to do this for me. I'll only be gone for a week, maybe two. I can trust Elia and Mina to watch over our children while I'm gone. Not to mention that my handmaidens rarely leave the twin's side. And Ashara is due to return any day now, so this shouldn't be a problem as well. And..."

"Senna..."

"I know you worry," she said softly, as she reached out for him and took one of his hands and caressed it tenderly, "But I have a very bad feeling about this entire situation."

"I trust your judgment on this," Rhaegar replied wearily. He just wasn't in the mood nor did he have to energy to contend with her over this issue. And maybe it would even be for the better. She would be away from the trouble in the Kingswood. "But promise me that you will not travel beyond the Wall. No further than Winterfell! Promise it."

"I promise," she vowed softly, "But come now. I want some memories of my family to take with me when I leave. And you haven't seen our children in three days now."

He looked ruefully at her. She was right, of course. He had been so busy, that he had not seen his children in days. The days of a king are too long and by the time he was done with his duties, all the children were already at sleep. He would have to find a way to remedy that in the future…

* * *

Robert was out in the Wolfswood, doing what he did he did best. Hunting. There was just so much game in this forest and so few people who would disturb his fun. It was perfect and took his mind of the ever growing trouble that his best friend was in.

Robert knew that his father had expected his return almost half a year ago. There had been letters, not all of them kindly worded, in which his father urged him to return to the south, to take his place as lord of Storm's End. Even his mother had implored him to return. But Robert just couldn't. He couldn't abandon Ned, who was all alone now.

He had agreed with the decision to send Benjen south. Senna would take good care of the boy and the curious mind of the youngest Stark would thrive in the diverse group of people who already follow the queen.

"Shouldn't we return, Lord Robert?" Jorah Mormont asked.

The son and heir of Lord Jeor had become a constant presence in Robert's life. And he still wasn't sure whether he was supposed to like this or not. Worse yet, Jorah was usually accompanied by his aunt, Maege Mormont, whose crude humor and lack of proper decorum would likely mortify the vast majority of the noble ladies in the south.

"Do we have enough for a feast?" Robert asked in return.

"How many do you intend to feed?" Jorah asked in return, "We have more than enough venison to feed all the people in Winterfell for a day or two. Should you keep this up, the forest will be empty before the winter is over."

"Only two days?" Rober asked mockingly, "This won't do. We have to hunt more, there is a big feast and many guests that need to be fed!"

"You have killed more animals these past weeks than I have ever seen on Bear Island in all my life," Jorah grumbled, "I'd rather return to Winterfell and prepare for the journey south."

Robert groaned as he heard this. The journey south. Of course he had not forgotten that Lord Jeor had asked him to take Jorah to the south, so the boy would forget about his sorrows and the wife he had lost to this winter. Didn't mean, though, that Robert was in a hurry. But with the current guests in Winterfell, he would soon need a good excuse to stay in Winterfell. Ned certainly wouldn't ask him to stay. His ever dutiful friend had urged him to follow his family's wishes on more than one occasion.

But for now, he wasn't done hunting. At least one more dear, no, a stag. Proud and majestic. But he could already guess that this would remain merely wishful thinking when he heard the sound of hooves. Many hooves. Riders were approaching his hunting party and they were in a hurry.

The banner of House Stark was displayed proudly, as the riders got closer to them. Guardsmen or a patrol, though Robert wasn't sure what they would want from him.

"Lord Baratheon!" one of the riders exclaimed loudly, while he was still a good distance away from Robert.

Robert waited for the man to get closer before he showed his full anger and disdain for being interrupted during his hunt. But the rider did not wither under the lord's glare.

"Lord Baratheon, you are needed in Winterfell immediately. Lord Stark needs you!"

"Has something happened to Ned?" Robert asked, his anger quickly forgotten and replaced by worry for his friend.

"A dragon has been sighted, my lord. Scouts from the south have brought news of a dragon flying towards Winterfell," the rider told him, his voice filled with great urgency.

As far as Robert knew there was only one dragon in the known world. Senna's overgrown pet. He had his doubts that the dragon would be flying around alone, so it was safe to assume that Senna was riding on his back. Yet that thought alone was quite disconcerting. A queen does not travel so far North without a reason, especially not alone. He wondered just what Ned had told her to make her worry enough to come here.

"Jorah, it would seem that at least one of your wished will be fulfilled today," Robert grumbled.

Jorah looked perplexed, unsure what Robert could have meant with his more than cryptic statement. "Care to elaborate?" he asked.

"That dragon is likely the queen's new mount. Queen Senna is on her way to Winterfell. Maybe she is already there," he had no idea how fast a dragon can travel. Surely faster than a horse, but Robert wasn't sure. "And now you all can be happy that we have collected this much venison. That dragon alone will need a whole stag for himself."

"Lord Baratheon," the rider urged once more.

"I heard you, you damn lout," Robert shouted. "Gather your things, we return to Winterfell!" he yelled towards his companions and servants.

At least there would be more ale and wine. He was in dire need of more alcohol now. He had this damn feeling that Senna's visit would only worsen the entire situation. So he pushed his horse to the brink of collapse, to return to the castle as swiftly as possible. The rest of his company had long lost his trail, not that most would have tried. The Northerners were likely happy every time they saw him leave.

Soon enough he reached the outskirts Winterfell, where countless people had already gathered to see the show. And what a show it was, with the large dragon flying in circles above the keep, looking menacing the entire time. But Robert couldn't see a rider, so it was likely that Senna had already landed and left her pet to roam the area.

When he entered the courtyard he quickly found the queen and just about every other inhabitant of Winterfell. Ned had them all lined up in the courtyard, to pay their respect to their queen. And Senna… Robert could already see that this was not exactly what she had wanted. Too much pomp and procedure among friends.

As he left his horse and approached her, he could see that her face lacked the smirk he remembered so well. Even her eyes were slightly colder than he remembered, though they did lit up in joy when she saw him.

"Robert, it is good to see you," she said happily, as she walked towards him. To his surprise, she hugged him, something that was certainly not expecting. At least not in public. "I know that you are not good with words, but I had expected at least one or two letters from you, you big oaf. Hadn't it been for Ned, I wouldn't have known whether you are still alive or not."

"I don't write letters," Robert grunted. "But it is good to see you again, your… majesty."

He felt awkward saying this. He wasn't used to being formal around Senna, mostly due to her own lack of decorum whenever she is around him. They almost never talked when they are doing their duty, she as queen and he as one of her lords. All their meetings were informal and joyous, something that certainly endeared the queen to him, even despite his rather abysmal opinion of the family she had married into.

"Your grace," Ned approached them, visibly worried by the queen's presence. "There are certain guests in Winterfell that I wish to introduce you to."

Unbidden and rather disrespectful of the lord of this keep, one of the guests Ned had spoken about stepped closer. Robert looked angrily at the man. He didn't like Hoster Tully all that much and ever since the man had come here, his opinion of the Riverlord had plummeted. The man considered Ned too young and untried, something that showed in the clear lack of respect. And now this fish would face a dragon, deep down Robert hoped that Hoster would get burned in some way, it would serve him right.

"Your majesty," Hoster said, as he bowed before the queen. He said nothing to introduce himself, clearly expecting her to know him, though Robert was sure that this was the first time Senna had met the Lord of Riverrun. "I had not been made aware that you would attend the wedding."

And for once something happened that Robert had not seen before. Senna had been caught unaware. It was so rare to see the queen surprised. Most would even miss it, but Robert had learned to read her better than most after all the time they had spent together. Her surprise only showed in the ever so subtle rise of her eyebrows, as she looked towards Ned. It was clear that Ned had not told her about this rather big change in his life, yet Robert couldn't even fault his friend for this.

Hoster Tully had all but rushed Ned into this marriage, as soon as Ned had been appointed as the new lord in his father's and brother's absence. The man appealed to Ned's sense of duty and ever dutiful Ned agreed to honor the pact his father had once made with Hoster Tully. Only now it wouldn't be Brandon to wed Catelyn Tully, but Ned.

"How could I stay away, Lord Tully. Lord Stark is one of the dearest friends of my family and though my husband could not attend due to his duties, he does send his regards. We all hope that this wedding will strengthen the ties within the realm, so we all can work for a better future," Senna replied cordially.

Robert actually wanted to applaud her for keeping her composure at this moment. Caught unaware, but no one would be able to tell. There was an almost mischievous undertone in her voice, especially when she insisted that Ned is important to the entire royal family, not just to her. It was a barb against Hoster Tully that not many would understand. The man had been absent at Senna's wedding, only sending his brother and daughters in his stead. Many assumed that the man harbored thoughts of dissent, especially with his rather bold plans to marry both his daughters to heirs of great houses.

"Your grace," Ned interjected quickly to prevent his guests from saying something… unwise. "This is Lady Catelyn, my son to be wife."

Robert was quite amused when he saw Catelyn shuffle nervously before the queen. News about Senna's abnormal powers had obviously reached as far as the Riverlands and now the girl had all reason to be cautious. Especially considering that her father had done little to endear their family to the new ruling couple on the throne.

Senna smiled pleasantly at the girl and appraised her. Robert couldn't help himself but laugh. He had done the same. Senna was gauging whether this girl was worthy of their friend and would continue to question Catelyn later. He was sure that she would.

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, your grace," Catelyn said, as she curtsied with all the dignity and grace she could muster in front of the most powerful woman in the realm.

"Oh, the pleasure is all mine," Senna said, "I do remember seeing you at Queen Rhaella's ball before my wedding a few years ago. It saddens me that we did not have the chance to speak back then, but we should remedy this as soon as possible. But for the moment I need to speak to your future husband."

The dismissal had been clear enough, so Catelyn only nodded mutely, before she took her leave and walked back towards the keep. Most of the crowd had already dispersed as well. Only Lord Hoster was stubborn enough to stay with the group. But one dark look from Senna made it clear that he would not be included in whatever talk the queen would have with the Lord of Winterfell.

Senna waited until Hoster had disappeared from sight, before she spoke again, "Just how can you stand the man. What a self-entitled fool."

"He made a great gamble in the waning years of King Aerys' rule. He saw a rebellion coming and did his best to prepare his family to stand on the winning side. Now all those who would have opposed Aerys' madness are firmly under your thumb and he tries to salvage what he can," Robert scoffed. "I don't like him much and would have opposed this whole marriage farce, had Catelyn not turned out to be a fine woman for Ned."

"Robert..." Ned admonished his friend, "My father made a pact with Lord Hoster and I will not break it. And as lord, I need a wife… and an heir."

"Children," Senna said with a dreamy smile on her lips, "It takes some work to make them, believe me, but once you hold them in your arms and look in their eyes you know why you are in this world."

"Are your children faring well?" Ned asked her, "I was quite sad that I couldn't leave the North to properly honor your heir, but..."

"It is alright, Ned. After all, you have been through, I wouldn't have demanded this from you. And I am here to help. I was right that you kept some things from me in those letters of yours. But now I hope that your wedding will remain the only surprise you have in store for me."

Ned sighed deeply and looked quite troubled. Robert knew that there was much more that Ned should tell the queen. But none of that was easy.

"This wedding is the least of our troubles. No, there is much more," Robert growled, when Ned seemed to indolent to say anything. "People have disappeared and not just Lord Rickard and Brandon. People south of the Wall." Lyanna was one of them. Robert had not yet given up on her. Deep down he still hoped that they would find her some day. But for that he would have to stay in the North, to help with the search.

"Then let us go inside and talk. I want to know everything," Senna told Ned sharply. "And don't mind Draco. The lazy lizard will likely grow bored soon enough and look for a place to sleep until I call for him again."

"And that is a good thing?" Robert wondered. He clearly didn't trust a dragon to remain peaceful.

"As I said, he is lazy. He likes to be fed, so at least he won't go out and hunt his own food. But enough of the dragon, let's go," Senna urged.

There was much to be said and even more to be done. Robert had been right when he said that the wedding was the least of their problems now. He could only hope that Senna's presence would make things easier… though he knew, more often than not she had a different effect on pretty much everything...


	21. Chasing Shadows Part I

Hoster Tully wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel. He was in a precarious situation, a moment in the history of his old and proud house that would either lead to downfall or greatness. And all because of one wrong decision he had made years before. Back then it had been clear which path he had to take. The king was insane and the realm only one major incident away from civil war. But all of that had changed with one marriage…

And now the woman who had made that very importance difference for the royal family was here, in the same keep as him, attending his oldest daughter's wedding. But how to deal with the queen, whose powers had been described in such way and detail, that most sane men would not waste a single moment to believe they exist. Not that it made any difference.

Queen Senna of House Peverell, the great treasure of Myr and religious symbol of the fire-worshipping heathens in the east. And now the first dragon rider in over a century… Both beloved and feared, Hoster knew that one word from her could end him and his family. And no one would raise a hand to aid them. Not against her, not against someone who had somehow bewitched half of the great lords of the realm and seemingly cowed the rest.

But what to do now? It was obviously too late to try and earn her friendship. There had clearly been disdain in her eyes when she had looked at him. All the others in the courtyard, especially the young Stark and that dolt from the Stormlands had been greeted with kindness and obvious fondness. But then he remembered. His daughter, Catelyn, had also been spared the queen's ill will. It was a tiny ray of hope, but if push comes to shove, Catelyn may be his only chance to make the queen listen…

Now he was glad that he had pushed for her marriage to the lord of Winterfell to happen. Brandon Stark would have been a good ally, one who had been just as suspicious of the Targaryens as he is. But the fool got himself killed beyond the Wall, so only his younger brother remained. But maybe Eddard was the better choice in these troubled times. The balance of power had tipped in the Targaryen's favor and a close friend of the queen would likely be the better husband for his daughter than one who acted against them.

He looked to his side, where he saw Catelyn. She had joined him for the evening, at his behest, to keep her from running into the queen before he had come up with a new battle plan. She busied herself with some needlework and tried to look calm and collected. But he knew that she felt just as anxious as he was.

His beautiful young daughter. The best of his three children. As beautiful as her mother had been, but far stronger and with a clever mind. She would need all of her talents now. Hoster didn't like it much, but he would have to place the future of House Tully on his daughter's delicate shoulders.

* * *

Arthur didn't like the situation they had found themselves in, the moment they had set foot inside the Kingswood. Even with three thousand well-armed men and over a hundred knights of varying repute he couldn't help himself but worry. Not just for Ashara's wellbeing, but also for the outcome of this very difficult task.

Due to his own emotional involvement in this fight, he had deferred to Ser Barristan to fill the position as the sole leader of this small army. He trusted the Lord Commander to do the right thing, especially since the man had already seen his fair share of fighting in the past.

Yet Arthur also worried when Ser Barristan disregarded the obvious disdain of the smallfolk in and around the forest. Maybe the Lord Commander was right, and the winter was the cause of the issues these people seemed to have with the royal army. But Arthur wasn't sure that this was really the only cause for their feelings.

Then there was the forest itself. Old and dangerous. Many parts were unknown, seeing as the lords of the land only really cared about the roads and paid little heed to anything that happened far away from them. No one could tell just how many small settlements were hidden in the depths of this forest. Just like no one really knew how big the Kingswood Brotherhood really is.

"Keep your eyes open, Jaime," Arthur ordered his squire, who rode next to him. "Expect an enemy in every shadow and behind every tree."

"But they are just brigands," the young Lannister replied indignantly.

"Never underestimate an enemy. You feel contempt for them because of what they are, but a sword in the hands of a brigand can kill you just as easily as one in the hands of a knight," Arthur lectured.

Even after all the time, the boy had been his squire, Jaime was still brash and far too proud. If he survives this mission, he might learn a very important lesson.

"Arthur, we should split the troops up and begin searching the area around the Kingsroad where the attacks have happened," Ser Barristan called out to him. "Take a thousand men to the west, I will take a thousand to the east. The rest shall patrol the Kingsroad."

"Is that wise?" Arthur questioned.

"There is too much forest to cover and too little time if we wish to find the kidnapped ladies alive," Ser Barristan replied somberly.

Of course, Arthur wouldn't forget them. His own sister's life was on the line and he had all reason to rush this entire expedition. It was why he had not taken command himself. But it would do them no good to split up and get ambushed one after another. But he would respect his commander, maybe Ser Barristan's experience would serve them well here.

So the split the troops up. A thousand each went with Ser Barristan, Ser Arthur, and Ser Tygett Lannister, who had come along on his brother's command. But it was agreed upon to reunite the troops before nightfall, to make one large camp that would be harder for the brigands and their possible allies to attack.

Arthur lead his man deeper into the woods, away from the road and any semblance of civilization. The trees here were tall and ancient, like the entire forest. He idly wondered what fabled heroes of ages long past might have camped underneath the branches of these trees before. If the trees could talk, oh how many wonderous tales could they possibly tell…

"Ser Arthur," Jaime's presence shook Arthur out of his short lived reverie. As he looked upon his squire, he could see a great deal of caution on the boy's face.

"Yes, Jaime? Have you seen something?"

"Not yet, but… I can't shake the feeling that we are being watched. As if they are waiting for us in the shadows, scouting for any weakness in our lines that they might exploit."

"I see," Arthur replied monotonously. Truth be told, he had the same feeling. And he didn't like it one bit. Rhaegar might have had good intentions by giving them so many soldiers for this quest, but the sheer size of their force destroyed any chance to sneak up on anyone in this forest. The Brotherhood would hear and see them long before they could claim the same.

"Ser Arthur, may I take a dozen riders and search the area a bit more closely? We would be faster and less obvious for our enemies to spot."

Arthur considered this for a moment. The idea itself wasn't bad at all, but he had his doubts that Jaime was ready for such a duty yet. And he risking the boy's life needlessly would not sit well with Lord Tywin. Getting Jaime killed was not the kind of trouble that Rhaegar would need right now.

"No, Jaime. We shouldn't split up just yet. Not before we know the land a little better," he replied. He could see both disappointment and slight anger in the young Lannister's face. He was young and eager. Born and raised in a world were no wish seemed unrealizable. The boy felt as if the whole world was his to conquer and was eager to prove it.

For the moment Jaime would have to reign in his desires. He would get too bloody his sword soon enough. All they could do on these first few days of their campaign was to scout the area and question the smallfolk for clues. The Kingswood Brotherhood likely had a base somewhere inside the forest and if they manage to find it, they would hopefully find the women as well. He could only hope, for Ashara's sake.

* * *

Senna stood calmly next to Robert, as they watched the ceremony. Weddings in the North were quite different from the rest of the realm, she noticed. Of course, their was a different faith, with the Old Gods and a wide variety of other things that Septons in the south scoff at as barbarism and heathen worship.

"If Ned looks any more stoic he will start shitting stones," Robert commented, his voice low so only Senna would hear it. They had been talking quietly the entire time. If anyone felt disturbed by this, they dared not bring it up. No one would reprimand the queen, after all.

She chuckled lightly but refrained from commenting on the matter herself. This was hardly a marriage of love, but rather one of political necessity. At least for the Tullys. If he so wished, Eddard would have a quite a number of ladies to choose from.

For some time Senna had believed that Ned had fancied Ashara. Maybe he had, but his sudden departure for Winterfell had made any further contemplation of such a match null and void. Ned was the Lord of Winterfell now, succeeding both his father and brother. And dutiful as he is, Ned even honored a marriage pact made for Brandon, even though the Tullys had no leverage to force him to comply. And even if they had, Senna would have put an end to their schemes, for her friend's sake. But Ned agreed and maybe he would find a suitable match in this Catelyn Tully.

Senna had yet to speak to the girl in private. She had wished to do so before the wedding, but her business with Ned and Robert had kept her occupied, not to mention that Hoster Tully had kept his daughter close to his side and would not leave her alone until she is truly wed to the Lord of Winterfell. The man considered himself clever, but Senna would rather call him a bold fool.

"And Hoster Tully, looking all smug as if he has won some battle," Robert scoffed, "I don't understand why you don't take the fool to task."

"There is no need to," Senna assured him, "The man knows that his daughter is his only hope. With the Arryns, Tyrells and Lannisters on Rhaegar's council, the North is his only hope to avoid complete isolation. It takes not magic to see this fools future."

"Why allow him this? He has done nothing to deserve another chance!"

Senna sighed. She could understand why Robert was upset. He didn't want Ned to become a pawn in some fool's game. She felt the same. But she still remembered some of the things she had learned from another old fool. Dumbledore had not just believed in redemption but also in doing things for the sake of the bigger picture. She herself had been a pawn in his plans, but all her suffering had not been without reason. Ned wouldn't suffer, he might even gain a good partner. But even if Hoster Tully considered himself a shrewd tactician and plotter, she would not begrudge him that feeling if it ensured that the Tullys and with them the Riverlands would remain pacified for the time being.

"I do believe that Catelyn might be good for him," she told Robert, "Even if he never finds it in his heart to love her, she can give him children to love and cherish. He needs that or the shadows of his lost family will haunt him forever."

"We don't even know whether Brandon and Lyanna are dead," Robert muttered. He was still in denial and not even Senna could make him see reason. He hoped to find Lyanna one day, to take her south with him and make her his wife. His obsession with the girl was dangerous.

"Let us focus on the wedding and the feast today," she said in an attempt to steer the topic away from the dark thoughts that flood Robert's mind every time he thinks about Lyanna. "I've heard that northern ale is quite good."

Robert chuckled again, as he looked at her, "As if they would serve a queen anything but the best wine they can find."

She smirked impishly at him, as she answered, "Well, then it would be prudent to allow Dorea a night to carouse. She has not had much fun in recent months. All her drinking buddies have skipped town."

Robert couldn't keep the barking laugh in and interrupted the ceremony quite rudely for a moment, not that he cared. It was obvious to her that Robert had missed their nightly excursions just as much as she had. She had enjoyed herself greatly and under the guise of Dorea she was able to see how the people in King's Landing truly think and talk about the royal family. It was both relaxing and informative, one of the few reasons why Rhaegar accepted this strange hobby of his wife. That and her husband trusts Robert with her safety... as if she needs to be protected.

They watched the rest of the ceremony in silence, as Ned and Catelyn spoke their vows. It was obvious that the girl felt uncomfortable with the customs of the North, but her family was in no place to demand that Eddard follows their southron customs. But Senna was sure that Catelyn would learn to adapt. Sooner or later she would learn. And who knows, in time Ned might even take her south again. Senna would make sure to mention that all members of House Stark will always be welcome in the capital.

First, however, they would need to deal with the trouble in the North. It was unlikely that they would ever find any traces of the lost Starks. At least none of Lord Rickard and Brandon. Once the winter would end, they might find Lyanna's remains… if she was truly dead, that is. Maybe Robert was right and she is still alive, hiding out somewhere like a petulant child that had run away from home.

* * *

Jaime Lannister was bored. It was the seventh day now since they had entered the Kingswood to rid the realm of the plagued the trade routes through the forest. But for seven days that had found naught but shadows and silent peasants. It was maddening.

He could see the haunted look on Ser Arthur's face grow with every passing day. Jaime could relate to the man, had anyone dared to lay a hand on his sister, he wouldn't find rest either until the matter is resolved and all men involved are dead.

Cersei… he tried to keep her from his mind these days. Too painful had his longing for her been before his ardor had diminished significantly. His duties had kept him away from her. And she seemed to avoid him as well. She had not even been there to see him off when he and Ser Arthur left the Red Keep to join the assembled army outside of the city. Even before he had not had a single moment alone with her in over a year now…

"Jaime, go and get some sleep, we will ride early tomorrow morning," Ser Arthur told him, as the knight was on the way to his own tent.

"What are we going to do tomorrow?" Jaime asked, quite curious about this. Anything was welcome, as long as it got him out of the camp for a day or two and allowed him to fight.

"The scouts have found another settlement half a day's ride north from here, we will go there to question the people," Arthur replied simply before he disappeared into his tent.

Questioning peasants… Jaime groaned in annoyance. It was dull and the people were either too scared or too angry to tell them anything. It was odd how quickly the opinion of the royal family and the lords of the realm changed as soon as one got away walls of a city. Or was it unique to the people who live in this damn forest? Too many years in this dark place would surely be detrimental to the mental health.

He contemplated going to sleep, but he did not feel weary at all. He had not done much these past few days and now he had energy in spades. So instead he walked around the camp and watched the other knights that were around.

He could see Lord Sumner Crakehall and his squire among the men. Years ago, before he had been brought to King's Landing to serve Ser Arthur and the king, he had been Lord Sumner's squire. It was a good time, but hardly as prestigious as the service to Ser Arthur.

But he did not dwell on the past for long, instead, he walked on until he reached the edge of the camp. Guards were stationed all around him. Three hundred would stand guard at any time of the day, too great was the danger of nightly raids. They had already lost a hundred men to the arrows from the darkest corners. Even now he had to be careful.

Jaime stared into the darkness. He didn't know why, but he just felt like it. Maybe he did look strong and dignified, staring into the unknown like a fabled hero of the old days. He wondered if Cersei would like to see him like this… but then again, she had not shown much interest in him in recent times…

Then he saw something in the darkness. Something was moving there, just out of the reach of the torches' light. It wasn't a deer, for that it was too small. No, he was sure that there was a person hiding behind the trees. He remained silent, as he did not wish to show that he had seen that person. He could barely trace the movement, but he was sure that he had not been mistaken. And he got his confirmation when suddenly an arrow came in his direction. It missed him, but had he not noticed the moving shadow before, he might just as well have been killed.

"To arms, we are under attack," Jaime yelled at the men around him.

Without much hesitation he stormed out of the camp, followed by at least a dozen other men to confront the attacker. But he had not considered just how dark it was in this forest. Still, his eyes remained focused on the moving shadow and he remained in pursuit.

He acted purely on instinct, as he ran into the ever growing darkness of the night, not thinking about the dangers that would await him and the possibility of a trap. He had waited a whole week for a fight and had to watch as these cowards attacked from the shadow. They kill a few men and disappear into the darkness, every night. Jaime was fed up and wanted to see them bleed for once. Of course, he knew that Ser Arthur would chew his head off for action so rashly, but at that moment he couldn't hear the command from the camp to return. He heard nothing but the forest underneath his boots and thumping of his own heartbeat.

Before he realized it, he had run so far that the light of the camp was nothing but a faint shimmer behind him. None of the soldiers who had followed him could keep up, so he was alone. Almost. The shadow he had seen was still running away from him, but he had gotten closer.

His opponent was getting slower, but obviously not by choice. Whoever it was, the attacker was not as well trained as Jaime. Closer and closer. He was almost withing reach. Then he had him. He managed to grab the attacker and push him hard enough to make him stumble and fall.

The hunt was over, but Jaime only then realized how far he had moved away from the camp. He couldn't even see the faintest trace of it anymore. And he was winded after running for so long.

He looked down at the person who had attacked him near the camp. A scrawny looking waif by the looks of it. Dressed in dirty clothes that seemed ill-fitting, with a dark hood obscuring the face and hair. He had a sword, but no bow. It confused Jaime at first, but he quickly realized that the man must have dropped it while running away.

"Get up, you damn coward," Jaime growled, as he kicked the man.

His opponent did not waste much time now and quickly jumped up. Swords were drawn and the two stood face to face again.

"Time to show your people that we are done playing," Jaime said, as he moved to attack.

Jaime quickly got the upper hand in the fight. His opponent was obviously not a sword fighter at all. What the waif lacked in strength, it failed to make up for with technique. It was almost as if he was fighting a little boy who had just begun to learn the basics.

Only a few more hits were needed, before the waif was on the ground, bleeding profusely from the many cuts Jaime had caused. It hadn't been a good fight and somehow Jaime was hesitant to kill. Maybe it was a pitty, though he wasn't sure whether he pitied the waif or himself for getting into this much trouble for a rather unfulfilling fight. But what surprised him more, was when the waif removed the dark hood and stared at him with great defiance.

"What are you waiting for? Do it, kill me now and be done with it, you bastard!"

Again Jaime hesitated, though for a different reason this time.

"A… woman? Seven hells," he exclaimed in shock.

Before him on the ground lay a woman, not a scrawny man as he had believed at first. He remembered that there were some women fighting for the Brotherhood, but he had not expected to face one of them in battle.

"What a sad sight," another man suddenly announced behind Jaime.

Before the young Lannister could fully grasp what was happening, the first attack of his new assailant came. A powerful blow, which he barely managed to deflect. A second followed, strong enough to knock the sword from Jaime's hand before the third sent him to the ground.

"Now look at you, Wenda," the man said mockingly, "You had been warned not to go out alone to antagonize the king's pawns."

Jaime could see as the man tried to help this Wenda up. But the moment she grabbed the offered hand, the man pulled her up and rammed the pommel of his sword into her gut. Jaime could only watch, as Wenda collapsed, desperately gasping for air.

"Now look at this, you foolish child. You fell onto my sword. Poor you," the man said, before he cackled madly, "Better this end than the other, don't you agree? Yes, of course, you do. Now get yourself back to the camp before you meet the other end."

Jaime tried to get back up, as the other two were busy with each other, but his movement didn't escape the man. He dropped Wenda and quickly attacked Jaime again, though this time with the blunt side of his sword.

"What an ungrateful guest you are, little lion," the man cackled. "I just can't allow you to leave us so soon. Not until you have enjoyed all the wonderful things we have to offer." Then he hit Jaime again. This time the young Lannister lost consciousness.

* * *

It was a calm day in the Red Keep. Too calm for the tastes of Cersei Lannister. As much as she loathed to admit it, without the queen, the life in the keep had become a dull repetition of the same tasks, day in day out. Always the same mind-numbing duties, as if she was some lowly servant. But ever since she had agreed, or more like ever since she had been forced to agree, by her father, to become one the queen's ladies in waiting, she had been little more than a servant. Her own social groups, which she had created with such diligence and care, had all but collapsed as soon as the queen had banished several ladies for the attempted murder of her unborn children. Several families had been disgraced entirely, stripped of land, titles, and fortune, they had been forced to leave the realm. And all they had once been, had been given to sycophants of the new queen.

Cersei herself had only escaped punishment for her involvement thanks to her careful planning. There had been no traces that would have incriminated her. Even those foolish ladies who had been banished had believed that it had been their idea all along. But Cersei was sure that the queen knew the truth and even now the young Lannister did her utmost to find herself ample protection from the queen's wrath. She was well aware that her father's power would only protect her for so long and unless the queen and her ill-begotten spawns would find an... untimely end, Cersei would have to be cautious.

She sneered, as she looked towards the other end of the room, where the queen's children lay in their cribs. It was one of the few days when she was allowed to be near them. Only because of the Dayne girl's absence. But even now they would not leave her alone with the children. Both of the queen's most trusted handmaidens and Princess Elia were in the room as well.

The Dornish princess did like her even less than the queen, that much was obvious. It was a shared sentiment, though. Cersei hated Elia as well. The dreaded woman was mocking her at every turn she got. Not openly, that was the shrewd part of it, but with the way she assumed the leadership role among the queen's ladies.

By all means, it should be her to control the actions of the other ladies and not that frail Dornish harlot who had somehow fooled everyone into believing that she was only here out of friendship for the queen. Cersei scoffed at such a pretentious lie.

Everyone had a reason, everyone had a price. The Dayne girl was here to better her position and to find a way better husband that she would deserve due to her low birth. And the Tyrell girl's sole purpose was to act as a chaperone for her own brother, who was little more than a simpering fool. All of them had reasons for their actions, except Elia Martell, who claimed that friendship was reward enough for her. Sometimes Cersei wished they were both men, so she could challenge that darn woman to a duel for such slights.

Bored out of her mind, Cersei began to pace around in the room. Of course, she wasn't a prisoner and free to leave whenever she wished, but she was also aware that nothing would please Elia more than to see her leave. And the chance that the king would come to the nursery to visit his children was too good to just leave. She had little enough chances to make an impression on the man… for the unlikely case that his current queen would not return this time or sometime in the future.

So she stayed inside the nursery and walked over to the cribs. That woman's children were sleeping, which suited Cersei well enough. She wasn't meant to mind other people's children. By all means, these should have been here children in these cribs. Had that Myrish harlot not appeared, then she would have married Rhaegar, Cersei was sure of it. There was no better match in the whole realm or beyond.

But then the girl had to wake up and make a fuss. Just, as usual, Elia was about to stand up and tend to the child, that insufferable smile on her lips. Cersei, however, wouldn't have it! Before Elia could reach them, she took the girl from her crib and held her in front of her.

"Careful, Cersei. Alysanne doesn't appreciate it when people hold her like that," Elia chided her gently.

Cersei's mood worsened even more. What did she care about the whims of the child? The babe had to do what she wanted, not the other way round. Yet it was obvious that the girl was not one to be ignored and before Cersei could react, the little monster barfed on her!

"Ah, now look at this," Elia said, as she took Alysanne from Cersei, "I know that you don't like it when others feed you, but your mother isn't here and you should keep the food inside, little princess."

Oh, the nerve of that woman. She had been the one who had been soiled by that little monster and all Elia could think about were the whims of the child. At least one of the handmaidens had the decency to act and help her, not that it did any good. The gown was ruined for sure. So she stormed out of the room to wash and change into clean clothes. She wouldn't allow being ridiculed for looking anything but perfect. Her ire only grew, as she heard laughing wherever she went. She was already the laughing stock of the entire keep… little did she know that it wasn't the soiled gown that caused the amusement among the people, but rather the garish green color her hair had suddenly changed to…

* * *

Jaime groaned, as he slowly returned to the land of the waking. His head was throbbing painfully and he felt all sticky and gross as if he had decided to sleep in a stinking pit of horse manure. It was only moments later, that he realized where he was. He was a prisoner of the Kingswood Brotherhood. Oh, the shame! He wasn't sure who would punish him more for this disgrace, Ser Arthur or his father…

"So, finally done with your nap?"

He looked to his side, where he saw another wooden cage, not far from his own. Inside were two girls, one he didn't know, but the other he knew all too well. Ashara Dayne, the very reason why Ser Arthur was so driven to find the Brotherhood.

"I wondered when you would wake up. They said the Smiling Knight caught you and he isn't known for leaving people alive," Ashara continued.

"He surprised me, that is all," Jaime defended himself weakly against the veiled accusation.

"I have to admit, I had not expected you of all people to appear here," Ashara told him, as she watched him with those curious violet eyes.

"I came to this blasted forest to rescue you," he replied snappishly.

She looked surprised at first before she looked around. "Good job," she answered simply. She seemed to be amused, though her words lacked the mockery he would have expected in this situation. There were none of those little quips she would usually reserve just for him. On the other hand, Ashara had been a prisoner for little over two weeks now and had seen gods know what. At least it didn't look like the bandits had done anything to her.

"You look healthy for a prisoner," he mentioned, as he wondered what these men were planning to do with her.

Ashara sighed sadly and shook her head. "They believe that I am worth a lot more than the others, because of my close relationship with the queen. They wish to ransom me directly to her, but she hasn't been in King's Landing for a few days, so they wait. They dare not touch me because of that, but..." She stopped suddenly and looked at the other girl in her cage. Pale and dirty, the gown ripped in several places, the other girl looked as if she had been mauled by a bear. "Jeyne is my third cellmate since I've been captured..."

"What happened to the others?" he asked. His curiosity had gotten the better of him before he could use his own wits to figure it out.

But even despite the ill-thought question, Ashara answered him, "They… break them, before they take them to the coast to sell them to a slaver they work with." Her voice was suddenly hoarse and she paled as well. It was clear that they didn't do the breaking out of earshot of these cages and Ashara had to watch while knowing that she had only been spared this fate because of Queen Senna. "These fools don't know what they are dealing with. When Senna finds out about this, she will annihilate them all. The only thing that awaits these bandits is the fiery vengeance of our queen." Her words were like a desperate prayer. Something she could cling to, in order not to despair here.

"Well, the queen is in the North at the moment. I don't really know when she will return, so we will have to do the whole saving thing on our own," Jaime told her, "Just give me a few moments, I will think of something. I will get you and your new friend there out of this mess."

Ashara smiled weakly at, but there was some hope in her eyes. Jaime vowed to himself that he would get them out of this situation if only to see Ashara smirk at him again like she always liked to do when they meet in the Red Keep.

But they remained silent after this, as several men came walking towards his cage. One of them was the man he had fought against the day before. The scrawny woman was with them, as well as a man Jaime had not seen before. But his eyes remained on the man he had fought. The Smiling Knight… he had no idea what the man looks like before their encounter, but he knew enough else. This man was rumored to be one of the finest swordsmen in the Seven Kingdoms, but his mind was a wretched mix of chivalry and utter madness. Many were seeking this madman to test their skill, but the fact that none had returned to tell what he looks like could only lead to one conclusion.

"So, Jaime Lannister, son of the mighty Tywin. Finest catch of the month," the man he didn't know said gleefully. "Two hundred and fifty thousand gold coins should be a fine price, don't you agree, little Lannister?"

"Only that?" Jaime scoffed.

"Oh, so you say you are worth more than that?" the man asked, greed shining in his eyes.

"You should demand three times as much," Jaime advised, "You will need it to buy yourself a ship that will take you to the other end of the world. Because the moment I am out of your reach my father will pay every sellsword and every assassin from here to Ashai to find you and slaughter you. You and everyone you care about. You, your woman, your bastards, even every fucking dog you have ever liked and every goat you have fucked. Just remember, a Lannister always pays his debts, you can ask the Reynes and Tarbecks to confirm it for you… if you find one that is still alive that is."

He let out all of his pent-up anger and frustration in that little speech. And much to his satisfaction, it had shut the man up. He even looked slightly worried now. Rightfully so. The Rain's of Castamere are a reminder to all people in this world about what happens to those who stand against House Lannister.

But the Smiling Knight just laughed madly at this. "Now I like you, even more, little lion. Your father will send me many more lambs to slaughter. Maybe I will keep you as a pet. I always wanted a pet lion."

"Enough!" the other man roared in an attempt to regain a bit of the dignity he had just lost, "Your father will never find us, Lannister. But he will pay your price. And when you return to him, tell him that Simon Tyone sends his regard. And make sure to tell that king as well." Then he turned towards the woman, "Wenda, you stand watch for now. It's not like they can escape, but at least here you are less useless than anywhere else." Then he marched away, the cackling knight following him swiftly, leaving Jaime and Ashara alone with the woman Jaime had fought before.

"Wow, you really look like shit," Jaime remarked, as he looked at Wenda. At first she wouldn't meet his eyes, but eventually, she looked at him with all the disdain she could muster, which wasn't all that much with the bruises on her face and one eye swollen shut from the beating she must have received for losing her fight against him.

Ashara watched them with some curiosity, obviously wondering what must have happened to the girl. But as she looked at her, Ashara obviously found something the surprised her, "Jaime, the sigil."

Jaime looked at what she was pointing at. He hadn't seen it before, but now he saw it as well. A small white fawn stitched onto the front of her tunic. A white fawn… he remembered the briefing he had attended, where Ser Arthur explained what the Brotherhood had done and who they had abducted. The first to disappear had been the younger daughter of Lord Cafferen of Fawnton, a lordship near the edge of the Kingswood. And the sigil he had seen looked remarkably like the white fawn on this girl's clothes. But the lord's daughter had a different name. He couldn't recall it at that moment, but he was sure it wasn't Wenda. Still, this was too much to be a coincidence.

"Life in Fawnton must have been dull," he remarked. He couldn't keep the vicious grin hidden when he saw her flinch. "So it is true. You are not a victim, you are a traitor."

"You know nothing, Lannister," Wenda hissed in anger. "No one denies the Smiling Knight, no one." She walked further away from the cages and settled down with her back leaning against a tree. She still watched the prisoners as she had been ordered, but it was quite obvious that she would not speak another word.

* * *

Senna watched as the land underneath Draco's wing passed by. White and green, with a spot of brown dirt every now and then. In some regard, the North wasn't much suited for sightseeing. In fact, except for Whitehaven and Winterfell itself, there was only one place worth visiting, at least for royalty. The Wall. The place she felt drawn towards ever since she had left the safe confines of King's Landing.

It was as if something was calling out to her. It had been subtle at first, but the night before she had a dream about the Wall, so vivid that she had almost believed it was a real memory. It was why she had decided to pay this particular landmark a visit, despite her promise to Rhaegar that she would not go further than Winterfell. She just had to know what it was that drew her there.

Ned had been worried and Robert had been adamant to come with her when she told them about her intention to travel further North. Neither could stop her when she mounted Draco and flew off without looking back. She would return swiftly enough. Thanks to Draco it was possible to get to the Wall and back to Winterfell in about a day, maybe even less if the moody lizard doesn't act up, which he liked to do every now and then.

It was almost midday when she finally reached the gigantic monument. She wondered just how a bunch of humans had built something this big. Of course, she had heard that there had been giants involved, but still, building something of this size must have taken ages. Even more in the hostile environment of the North. Even on a warm summer day, the ground is frozen solid here and the winds are more than a mere annoyance.

She steered Draco towards the top of the Wall and landed near the northern edge. She wouldn't go any further for now. She may have broken the promise to Rhaegar that she would stay in Winterfell, but she wouldn't betray his trust further by traveling to the place where both Ned's father and brother had disappeared… or die, more likely.

She left Draco behind, as she walked further towards the edge. The land beyond the Wall was vast and not quite as desolate as she had expected. It wasn't exactly the desolate ice desert that others had warned her about. It looked like the North, only without the villages and keeps.

"Ah, the land of death. Isn't it remarkable," the familiar voice of Death told her. But unlike usual, this time it wasn't a whisper in her ear, but the voice coming from a real manifestation of Death.

The bane of her existence was hovering not far from her, a dark specter that looked strikingly like a dementor after he had lost a few rounds of strip poker.

"This is the first time you have actually manifested in a world," she said in astonishment. Not even in Tartarus Death had managed this feat. Thus far she had always believed that Death was unable to manifest anywhere in a living world, it was why he was in need of people like her, who would do his bidding.

"It is truly a marvelous place," Death agreed, "A place where even the greatest of nightmares can assume any shape and form. Do you feel it? The blood used in the rituals to build this barrier? The ancestors of your friends were so afraid of what lies beyond… Rightfully so. What lies beyond this wall is truly unnatural."

"Why are you here? You haven't bothered me in so long, I had begun to hope that you have tired of tormenting me," Senna said with a weary sigh.

"Oh, my dear, I would never tire of you," Death cackled. "But I a merely here to observe… and to warn."

"To warn me?"

"You are not meant for this place. Banishing this darkness has never been your duty and a soul as tainted as yours cannot prevail here without unleashing untold horrors upon this world," Death told her, suddenly very serious.

Senna didn't really know what he had meant, but she was well aware what he had alluded to. The new prophecy in this world, that implicated not her as the one burdened with the duty of banishing the darkness, but rather her child. Daeron is supposed to fight the darkness, many believe that. Melisandre was among the most ardent supporters of this misconception. But Senna wouldn't sit back and send her child alone into the darkness.

"I will not..." she stopped suddenly when she realized that Death had already left. She sighed again, still bothered by what he had told her. She couldn't really understand what it was that he tried to tell her with his warning. But her time to contemplate was cut short.

The sickly green light shot past her, missing her by mere inches. It was a curse she had not seen since the end of her first life. The killing curse, a vile and perverted form of magic that the nemesis of her first life had been so fond of. And as her eyes found the source of the curse, her breath hitched in her throat.

"This is not possible. You can't be here, at least no in this form," she yelled, as she saw Lord Voldemort in all his twisted glory.

"Potter," Voldemort hissed, "You can try to break my body, but you will never be rid of me."

"I defeated you once, I will do so again. And now I have powers that Harry could only dream of," Senna replied, as grabbed her staff, which she had carried on her belt in his shrunk form and enlarged it again. "And when I'm done with you, your spirit will be shattered into so many pieces that not even a million of your minions could ever hope to find enough to reassemble you."

She was about to attack Voldemort when another attack from the other side drew her attention. But it wasn't a curse this time, but a silver arrow.

"You've got to be kidding me," Senna cursed when she saw the bane of her second life standing on the other side of her.

Artemis, goddess of the Moon and the Hunt. The goddess who had hunted her like an animal in her second life. The one who had challenged her and driven her to the point of desperation. The woman whose zealous compliance to her father's orders had been the cause for Senna's former self to side with the enemies of mankind… The goddess who had killed her at the very end and robbed her of any chance at redemption.

But now, standing between the madman and the goddess who had made her first and second life hell, Senna could only wonder what they were doing here. Were they even real? She couldn't be sure, but both the curse and the arrow seemed real enough to warrant caution.

"Now you will pay for your treason, spawn of the underworld," Artemis spat, before both, she and Voldemort attacked again.


	22. Chasing Shadows Part II

Utter nonsense. That was what Lord Commander Qorgyle thought of the reports he had received from his men. A dragon flying above the wall and strange shadows appearing out of nowhere. Two of his men had been reduced to little more than weeping shits. Men who had fought a great many battles against the fiercest of wildlings before.

So something was indeed very wrong, though he doubted that ghosts and dangerous beasts are the real culprits. No, the Lord Commander expected to find a group of wildlings on the Wall. The Seven know it wouldn't be the first time they climbed up to cause trouble. If only he had enough men to man every watch post, then such raids wouldn't be possible or at least much less effective. But that was merely wishful thinking.

But here he was, annoyed and itching for a fight, to show his men just why he was their Lord Commander. But as he walked through the long trenches on top of the wall, he did see things that shouldn't be there. It seemed dark, even though the sun still stood high above them without a single cloud getting in the way. And it was colder. Far colder than usual, even during a winter. It felt as if his blood was about to freeze in his veins.

A dragon, however, was nowhere to be seen. Not on the wall and nowhere in the sky. Just the notion that a dragon would come this far north was ridiculous. There was only one dragon, the queen's pet and as far as he knew, the queen was still in King's Landing with the rest of her family.

Or so he thought until his eyes found that one lone figure standing at the edge of the Wall. It was a woman, dressed in strange robes, her arms outstretched on either side of her. Qorgyle's eyes widened when he saw the silver blonde hair flying in the cold northern wind and the golden staff in her right hand.

"By the Seven," one of his men muttered, "Commander, is that..."

"I know full well who that is, you imbecile," Qorgyle hissed. He was unable to tear his eyes away from her, as she just stood there, her back turned towards them. She was completely unmoving, except for the subtle motions of her hair and clothes due to the wind.

But there was something else. A feeling of dread, as he looked at her. Something was terribly wrong. It wasn't just that the queen shouldn't be here in the first place, but there was this air of danger surrounding her. His instincts were shouting at him to stay away, but his curiosity was too strong to ignore. He climbed out of the trench to approach the woman.

He did not get very far. Only a few steps towards her, she suddenly moved. She grasped her staff with both hands and held it high above her head before she brought it down on the ground with enough force to ram it into the frozen stone. A ring of fire spread from her position and quickly engulfed anything that stood in its way. Qorgyle just barely made it back to the trench, as the fire reached the place where he had stood before.

A moment. Then another. Qorgyle waited for another attack to come before he would dare to stand up again. None of his men made a move that would indicate that they would act first, so he slowly pushed himself up, to see what the queen was doing now.

He found here still standing at the edge of the Wall. She was completely still again… before she fell. His eyes widened in shock and he quickly rushed to the edge himself. This would be an absolute nightmare. First, a lord disappeared in his keep then that lord's son disappeared beyond the Wall with all the Rangers that had accompanied him… And now the death of the queen, Qorgyle knew well enough that this would be his death sentence. The Seven must truly hate him.

"Commander, is she..."

"I can't see her. Hurry, we have to get back down and find her. There is no way she could have survived this fall, but at the very least we must retrieve her body before the wild animals get to it. The king will have all of our heads if that happens," Qorgyle ordered.

This time his men followed the order swiftly and eagerly. Their sense of self-preservation was pretty much the only thing that the Lord Commander could count on at any given time. And all of them, himself included, were also quite eager to leave this place. He had no idea what had happened, but the feeling of dread and devastation remained even after the queen's strange actions.

* * *

Senna felt odd, as she came to her sense. She was covered in snow and felt winded, though she couldn't remember why. The last thing she remembered was standing at the edge of the Wall, talking to Death… and the attack. But now she was at the bottom, no enemies in sight and Draco half-curled around her in a protective manner.

"Just what has happened…?" she wondered aloud.

Death appeared again, not far from her. He was still in the form of the dark specter she had seen on top of the Wall and cackled gleefully.

"So how does it feel when the past haunts your every step?"

"This was your doing? Why?" she demanded to know. She was outraged by this, but just as confused. Just how had Death pulled this off? His only real power in this world should be limited to commanding her, yet this attack felt very much real…

"As much as I would like to take credit for tormenting you, this was not one of my games," Death replied with a sad voice, "It is the fascinating darkness that haunts this world. A magic so tainted that I couldn't have dreamed it up in my most wonderful dreams."

"This was a trick… an illusion," she wondered. She could only hope that it wouldn't happen again. Judging by how she felt, this darkness that was so ever present beyond that Wall had a detrimental effect on her. And down here, beyond the Wall, the darkness was even stronger.

"Remember, my dear, your magic is a truly dangerous thing to behold. With the right amount of prodding, it can unleash utter devastation and evil upon this world. Or banish it, if you so wish it. The question you should ask yourself is simple, do you dare to walk the path into the great darkness of this dying world or will you allow your children to try their luck? The darkness is alive and feeds on those who dare to enter."

"I would never force my children into this darkness! Not when I have the means to end it myself," Senna growled angrily. Just the thought of letting her children fight while she stays behind… it was maddening.

"Yet they are pure, whereas you are tainted far beyond redemption," Death cackled.

"Tainted by you," she growled in reply. She would never forget what had happened in Tartarus. Even long before her other memories returned, that dark part of her previous life had haunted her nightmares.

"A few more years, a few more decades perhaps, your time to decide is not without limit. But for now, I bid you farewell. I will enjoy experiencing the death of a whole world. It happens far too rarely."

The dark specter disappeared, carried away by the icy winds of the northern wilderness. She was left behind with more questions than answers and a very dark suspicion. But she couldn't dwell on it for long. Draco suddenly jerked up and began to growl in anger. Only when the dragon decided to take to the skies, she could see why her loyal companion was so angry.

She jumped to her feet when she saw them. The dark shadows that slowly crept closer. They came from the nearby forest, skulking slowly towards her. There were dozens of them. But she saw neither Voldemort nor Artemis among their numbers. No, they looked like a wild mixture of monsters and twisted and broken Death Eaters…

"Just what do you want from me, Death?" she yelled in exasperation. But the bane of her existence did no answer. Not in words, at the very least. His dark cackling resounded in the back of her mind, an ever-present vibration that felt as if something was trying to crack her head open to escape.

"Draco, bathe them in flames," she ordered.

Her faithful dragon swiftly moved to attack the monsters. It gave her at least some solace that Draco could see the attackers. She wasn't mad, a small relief but also a terrible truth. These monsters were not her imagination, there were real… a real threat. But why? Why were they here? None of them belonged in this world… But neither did she…

She quickly pushed herself forward. For whatever reason these enemies were here, she couldn't allow them to reach the Wall. If such monsters manage to get passed the barrier… she didn't even want to imagine what they could do the realm. The people were ill-equipped to fight against such a threat.

She summoned her staff back to her hand, as she stormed towards the enemies. The light of curses lightened up the darkened sky. Draco's flames and those of her own magic ravaged the attackers, yet it did little to deter them. For each one she slew, two more seemed to appear from the shadows. It just didn't make sense. She couldn't understand where they are coming from… until Death's words rung in her ears once more. Her own magic… was that what Death had alluded to? Was she the one calling forth these shadows? But how? And why?

She couldn't spend too much time pondering the situation, as her shield flared up again and again under the relentless assault of the twisted dark wizards. Her fight had long reached the forest near the Wall and the fire had begun to consume the trees.

Slowly her strength began to slip. She couldn't keep this up forever, at least not at this pace. She would have to flee… but could she truly risk it? There were so many enemies left…

Then she saw her. The only one among the enemy's number that had not escaped Senna's dark past. She had the form of a young girl, draped in dark robes with a strange leather armor underneath. She wore a plain white mask, which only had some slits to allow her eyes to be seen. There was something truly odd about her appearance. Her eyes, or at least what could be seen of them, seemed to glow in a harsh blue color. But she had obviously come to fight, as she had raised a sword to attack Senna.

The queen was ready to strike her opponent down, but the moment her curse would have hit the girl, she had disappeared into the shadows, only to reappear just next to Senna a moment later. Only thanks to the hastily erected shield charm her attack ended in failure.

"Just die already! The master demands your head!" the girl growled, as she attacked again.

Senna evaded the next strike of her sword and sent several curses after the girl. Again she disappeared into the shadows before anything could reach her, much to Senna's growing aggravation. But several other monsters had dared to use the chance for an attack. They met a quick end in the flames that erupted from the head of Senna's staff.

But the fight against the girl remained frustrating. Several more times Senna tried to hit her, but each time her attacks ended in failure. She got angrier, the longer the fight continued on and her attacks reached a nearly erratic behavior.

"Draco, fly high," she yelled in anger. The dragon complied swiftly, as it could sense it's mistress dark intent.

Senna meanwhile poured all her anger and the dark thoughts that clouded her mind in one last spell. The darkest flames at her disposal, Fiendfyre. Fueled by her darkest emotions, the flames burned hotter than ever and consumed everything around her. Trees, plants, animals and all of her enemies, none escaped the wrathful flames and only ashes remained, as the fire continued to eat away at the landscape around her, before it eventually runs out of fuel.

The queen nearly collapsed, winded by the attack and the sudden void in her mind. All her emotions had been drained into the spell, leaving her in an almost apathetic state. Only once before had she drained so much of herself into a spell… her last fight in her previous life… it had been her death sentence. It had left her open to an attack, an easy target, an invitation to attack that Artemis had been glad and quick to exploit…

Would the same happen now? She couldn't be sure whether she had managed to kill the girl which had attacked her. She could still be alive and now she would have the chance she would need to kill the queen. But in her current state, Senna couldn't bring herself to care for anything. It would take a few more moments before any semblance of life would return to her.

She braced herself for the sharp sting of a blade through her back, but nothing ever came. Instead, she could hear the rhythmic sound of hooves beating against the frozen soil. She turned her head ever so slightly, to see which threat would end her now. But what she saw instead were several dozen men on horseback, dressed entirely in black.

Most of the men stopped outside of the burned circle that had remained after her last spell and only a few dared to venture further onto the blackened ground. They left their horses behind with the others, before they approached her on foot, their hands never leaving the hilts of their weapons.

"By the Seven, she's alive. Commander, the queen is alive," one of the men exclaimed in great surprise.

"I can see that," another growled darkly. He was also the first to reach her. "Your grace," he said, as he knelt down in front of her.

Had she been able to, she would have laughed because of this strange situation. Here she was, looking beaten and pale, sitting in a circle of scorched earth, looking completely unfazed by the fire that had just ravaged the entire area.

"Your grace, I am Lord Commander Qorgyle of the Night's Watch," the man said calmly, "We are here to help. Please allow us to return you to Castle Black, our Maester can surely help you if you are wounded."

"I am… I am fine, thank you, Lord Commander," she said, irritated by how impassive her voice sounded.

She pushed herself up from the ground, leaning heavily on her staff as she did so. Only now she realized just how powerful her last spell had been. The utter devastation was shocking. It would appear that not all she had been in her past life had disappeared with her last death.

She heard some of the other men, who waited not far from her and Qorgyle, as they whispered among each other. They had seen her fight and were more than a little unsettled by the destruction she had caused.

Then her eyes found the scorched lump on the ground, a bit further away from her. She quickly walked over to it, ignoring the Lord Commander's surprised questions and the angry protest of her own body. It was just as she had thought at first. It was the girl that had attacked her… but she was still alive. The dark robes had been burned away, but they had been a better protection than Senna would have expected. Nothing should have survived the Fiendfyre… but as it seems, either the girl or whoever had sent her, had a great understanding of magic and how to protect from its effects.

Senna knelt down next to the girl. She took her sword and searched for other weapons, banishing all of them quickly, to avoid any more complications from this girl. She even cast another spell to prevent the girl from moving at all. Then she removed the mask… she gasped, as she looked at the youthful face of her attacker.

"Lord Commander, we will need to return to your castle posthaste. I have no need for your Maester, but this girl surely has," Senna ordered loudly, as she cast a stasis spell on the wounded girl. She was far more than confused now, as she cast a levitation spell on the unconscious girl.

It mattered little that these men saw her using magic. She was done hiding anyway and for the moment she had other worries. Just how had things come to this? Where had the girl gotten these strange powers and most importantly, how was she supposed to tell Ned and Robert that she had nearly turned Lyanna Stark into a pile of ashes…

* * *

Jaime groaned as he continued to pace in his small cage. Every now and then his gaze wandered towards Wenda, who sat rigidly near the cages to guard the prisoners. It was getting late and every now and then the girl seemed to doze off.

"Careful, Wenda," Jaime called out to her, a mocking undertone in his voice, "Wouldn't want to get beaten up again."

"Shut up," Wenda growled in return. "You won't be so smug once they have decided what to do with you until your father coughs up the ransom."

"None of your new friends will live long enough to even think about spending the gold," Jaime replied, "Certainly not what you must have imagined your life would be when you ran away and sold out friends and family to these bandits."

"I didn't sell out anyone," she defended weakly. "And you shouldn't be talking!"

Jaime smirked when he heard the sudden rage in her voice and saw the anger on her face. Or at least her failing attempt at showing anything but utter exhaustion.

"I really wonder what made you turn your back on everything you've ever known, Wenda," Jaime continued in his mocking.

Wenda continued to glare at him but did not rise to the bait. But Jaime realized that Ashara was watching him with the most curious expression on her face as if she tried to find out whether he was just venting his frustration on the only bandit within earshot.

"You have to be aware that you have no chance at all to get out of this with your head still attached to your shoulders," Jaime continued, "If the Ser Arthur's army doesn't put you all out of your misery, the queen will. They say there is nothing more painful than being bathed in the flames of a dragon. And that is just what the queen will do with all of you. The moment she realizes that you keep her dearest friend a prisoner, the moment she hears about what you have done to all those other girls, she will come to find you and she will annihilate you. Simple as that."

He could see that his threat had the intended effect. The girl paled even more and begun mumbling to herself. Satisfied with this outcome, he turned away from her and sat down, leaning against the bars of his cage. Ashara sat down in her own cage, where she was able to sit the closest to him.

"Why did you do this?" she asked him. Strangely enough, her voice was free of any obvious criticism. She seemed curious about his intentions without judging him. He would have expected one of the queen's closest friends to follow higher moral standards. Maybe Ashara had seen enough horrible things done by these monsters to stop caring about what happens to them, even it means tormenting a foolish girl who has made terrible life choices.

"If there is one thing my father has taught me, then it is how to break an enemy. Fear is a weapon more powerful than any sword."

"And scaring her will help us how?"

"There is no sense in scaring her," Jaime retorted. "But the others..."

"What others. There is only her," Ashara muttered.

"Wrong. These bandits are dumb, but not dumb enough to leave guarding the prisoners to one small girl they have beaten senseless. It would be foolish," Jaime looked around, but even now he could only see Wenda. But the others were there, he just knew it. "And now that the bandits know just what kind of future awaits them."

Ashara seemed to understand but said nothing more. There was no way for her to know just what Jaime was planning to do next, but he was sure that it was better that way. All that mattered was getting out of these cages and back to King's Landing. Preferably before the queen turns the entire Kingswood into a giant bonfire…

* * *

Arthur had already known that it would be an awful week, the moment he had been woken up by the camp wide alert. Attacks at night were nothing uncommon. But foolish squires getting lost in the dark forest, that wasn't as common. Oh, how he cursed Jaime's hotheaded foolishness. Jaime's uncle, Ser Tygett, had searched for his nephew nearly none stop since his disappearance, but he had returned empty handed every time he came back to camp. Another equally frustrating day followed. But still no clue as to what had become of Jaime. And much to their surprise, the bandits had not shown their faces either the entire time.

With both his sister and his squire missing in the forest, Arthur did the first best thing that came to mind, training, and planning for the inevitable fight.

Ser Barristan had made some progress with the local smallfolk, by convincing them that the royal army and the king himself only wish to protect them all from harm. It was a slow process, as there had been little to no trust at the beginning. But with each new step, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard was sure that he was getting closer to finding the bandit camp.

Arthur had just begun to study the maps they had drawn for the umpteenth time that day. If there was any good that had come from their campaign so far than it was that they now had maps of the forest that showed settlements and other points of interest in great detail. But just as he traced the route of a newly found stream on the map, Ser Tygett returned with his men.

"You look as if you've been mauled by a bear," one of the other knights commented when they saw the state the Lannister knight was in. And as Arthur's gaze wandered, he could see that the rest of the men were equally hurt, if not worse.

"Where have they attacked you?" Arthur demanded to know.

This was the first battle in days, the first lead they had on the enemies and he would be damned if he would allow the trail to run cold.

"Just a few miles north from here," Tygett answered sourly. "We made a short break to replenish our water at a stream when they attacked us. Bastards took six of my men before they disappeared into the bushes. Soon it will be seven." The men cursed loudly, providing a great example of the most colorful words a man can learn between Casterly Rock and the Free Cities.

"Who's wounded?"

"Crakehall is as good as gone. There was this madman, this Smiling Knight as they call him. Took one arm right of Crakehall and removed the hand from the other arm as well. His squire tried to help him but only ended up disappearing. Probably ran away, being the cowardly Frey that he is,"

The Smiling Knight… a dangerous foe. Arthur had heard of this man. Every knight in the Seven Kingdoms probably had. Many spoke with some sort of reverence about him, about his skill with the sword. But they also told with great fear of his utter madness and unpredictable behavior. There had been rumors that the Smiling Knight had joined the Kingswood Brotherhood, but to this point, he had not shown himself even once.

"They haven't shown their faces in days, so why would they attack now? And in such a remote place," Arthur wondered. As he looked at the map he couldn't see anything of interest there. Nothing that would make the area an good spot for a camp. No hills, no known caves, no other natural defenses, just even ground, and trees.

"I don't try to understand the minds of fools and madmen, I just slice their throats whenever I get the chance to do it," Tygett replied before he walked away.

Arthur was still focused on the map. This attack did not make any sense at all. Maybe it was just the madness of the Smiling Knight, but even that should have limits. There was a small settlement not far away from this place, but the smallfolk there had been so frightened by the king's knights and soldiers that they had spilled their guts without much prodding… unless...

"Richard," Arthur called out to his current second in command, who was dozing not far from him, "Assemble some of our best men."

"What for?" the other knight asked lazily.

"I'm in the mood for a hunt!"

* * *

Senna watched with great trepidation, as the rangers of the Night's Watch carried Lyanna's unconscious form into a room at Castle Black. The Lord Commander had arranged that Senna would be given anything they had to offer, which sadly wasn't much, to begin with. The moment she had entered the keep, she had seen how run down and dirty everything was. In the south, they only know the Night's Watch as the place where they dispose of unwanted criminals and other undesirables, but during her short stay in the North Senna had heard more heroic stories about the realms first and last line of defense against the threats from the northern wilderness.

It was one of many things she would have to bring to Rhaegar's attention, once she returns south. Though she was slightly apprehensive to just leave after seeing such darkness lurking just beyond the border of the realm, she knew that her days in the North are numbered. Her children would need her soon and she started to miss them and her husband.

How odd it was for her. In her previous lives, she had never been so reliant and attached to others. Even at the beginning of her marriage to Rhaegar, she wouldn't have expected to miss his presence so quickly. But she also knew that the pain of separation would be one she would have to endure much more in the future. Something was happening beyond the Wall and she would have to return to fight the encroaching darkness.

"Your grace," a man of the Night's Watch entered. It was a young boy, barely out of his childhood. But he already wore the colors of the watch. What must he have done or endured to end up here at such an age…

"Yes?"

"Maester Aemon is here to tend to Lady Stark's wounds," the boy said.

The boy quickly retreated from the room again and in his stead, an old man entered. He seemed gaunt, his face wrinkled and bald, his lilac eyes clouded. Only belatedly she realized that the eye color was most unusual, though. Aemon, as in Aemon Targaryen. The oldest living member of her husband's dynasty. A prince who had traded a life in the Red Keep against on in the Citadel and later on, in this frigid place in the North. Rhaegar had told her about him when he had regaled her with tales of his family.

"Maester," she greeted the man warmly. Despite her dislike of the Maesters she had met so far, she couldn't treat this man the same. In a strange way, he is family. Very distant family, but she had put up with much more distant kin of her mother in the past and those Volantene nobles are the nastiest kind of people one can imagine. How bad could this old man really be?

"Ah, so you are the child I've heard so much about. The latest bride in our family."

"I'm no longer a bride, Maester Aemon. Rhaegar and I have been married for years now. No, I'd rather prefer myself in the role of a mother." It seemed like the only title she had earned through her own labors. She had been born a lady, others had made her a princess, then a queen. If one were to ask Melisandre, she would tell them a whole lot more titles the faithful of the Lord of Light had come up with.

Aemon smiled benignly, as he looked towards her. Seeing his eyes, she wondered if the man was capable of seeing anything at all.

"A mother then. Both of children and dragons, so I've been told."

"Draco isn't really a child. And to him I'm more the domineering sister," she replied with a laugh, "Even now that unruly lizard is circling above this keep, waiting most impatiently for me to return so we can continue his games."

"You are a woman of many wonders for sure," Aemon replied simply, "But let's focus more on the girl you've brought me here. Lady Stark, I've been told."

"Yes, this is Lyanna Stark. Or at least she used to be," Senna replied awkwardly. The girl on the table before her had the face and body of Lyanna Stark, but she wasn't sure if this was really Lyanna at all.

It wouldn't be the first time for a monster to take the form of a deceased mortal and she had no idea just what kind of monsters roam the wilderness beyond the Wall. After what she had seen and felt only a few hundred feet beyond the Wall, she relinquished all hopes that Brandon Stark might still be alive as well. Lyanna's supposed return was a miracle, even though no one had even known that she had been beyond the Wall. But Brandon… not even her magic could create such a miracle… well unless one dabbles in the forbidden arts. But she had never had the stomach for necromancy, even in the times when she had been Cassandra and lost in the deepest abyss of her own madness.

"Describe her wounds to me, my dear, so I can help her," Aemon asked of her, as he stood next to Lyanna.

"Her wounds are not the issue here, Maester Aemon. I have already healed the cuts and treated the burns with the sparse knowledge of healing I possess." And how frustrating it had been to do that during the short trip to Castle Black. Not that it had been hard, but it was frustrating to see how little one of Senna's most powerful spells had done to the girl. "The illness she has is not of the body, but of the mind, I fear. When I encountered her, she was alone amongst a horde of monsters. She seemed… odd and her eyes had been glowing. She had clearly not been herself."

"Glowing, you say," Aemon muttered thoughtfully, "Most unusual. Something like this hasn't been seen in a very long time."

"Maester?"

"Legends, my dear. Of the old times and the long night. Most men here will tell you that they are nothing by made up stories to scare little children."

Senna sighed as she heard this. Her track record with fairy tales had never been very good and so far she has met a great many monsters in her previous lives, that shouldn't have existed in the first place. She wouldn't be surprised if there was more to this Long Night and all the things told about it. She would have to research it much more intently in the future.

"I will have my boys search our library for more information. And I will send a raven to the citadel on your behalf. Maybe we can learn more about what ails the young Lady Stark."

"I cannot dwell here for long, Maester Aemon," Senna told him, as a frown spread on her face.

The mere idea of relying on the good-will of the Citadel did not sit well with her at all. They had petitioned Rhaegar to force her to relinquish her secrets to them in the past. They had all but demanded that she hand over her family's extensive library to them, citing that it was now the property of the realm and therefore, the duty of the Citadel to archive everything. There was no doubt that they would repeat these demands now.

"I do not wish to keep you here, my dear. Surely you must be impatient to return to your children," Aemon commented happily.

The dark thoughts she had after thinking about the Citadel vanished, replaced by the love she felt for her children. All of them, Viserys and Daenerys included. She couldn't wait to see them all again.

"Their safety and happiness are of the utmost importance to me," Senna replied honestly.

"It gladdens me to know that the future of our family is in the hands of a such a wonderful young woman. It gives me hope that House Targaryen will yet endure this century after so many of us had died far before their time."

Senna was glad that her first assessment of the man had been right. To her Aemon wasn't a Maester, he was family. Distant kin to her husband, but family none the less. A man who still cared deeply for the descendants of his brothers.

They talked for a few more moments about family, mostly about the children and how the royal heirs had been raised long ago, in the days of Aemon's youth. But soon enough the old Maester excused himself, to study and perform his duties as Maester of Night's Watch.

But Senna also had plans to make. She couldn't leave Lyanna here. Not in this state. If there is a way to help the girl, she owed Ned and Robert to try at the very least. For the sake of her friends, she would. But first, she would have to tell her friends that Lyanna is alive and that in itself was no small task…

* * *

Jaime awoke to screams and great commotion not far from his cage. His first reaction was to look towards Ashara's cage. Panic rose in him when he couldn't see her at first. It was dark again and the girl just sat in the shadows of her cage, away from the light's reach. But she was still there, in her cage, huddled together with the other girl the bandits held prisoner.

But with both of them in their cages, he wondered who else had caused this much trouble. Another prisoner? He hoped that the royal army had at the very least put an end to the abductions. The presence of so many soldiers on the Kingsroad should have made traveling much safer and he really had no wish to see anyone else ending up in this mess.

So far the bandits had abstained from trying to break the other girl in Ashara's cage. Jaime wondered why, but deep down a smug voice told him that he was the cause. His capture must have mucked up their plans. Maybe they had finally come to their senses and realized that by going against Tywin Lannister, they had thrown away their lives.

Then he saw them. Wenda, some other bandits, and a new prisoner. Merett Frey, the squire of Lord Crakehall. Just how had they managed to subdue this ugly beast? Merett may be dumb as a pile of horse manure, but he was quite strong and surely he hadn't been alone.

Even now they needed five grown men to keep him down, as Wenda pulled down his breeches.

"Just what do you plan now, little girl?" Jaime called out to Wenda, "I wasn't aware that dumb, ugly, and bad mannered is so alluring to you, else I would have gotten you a crippled mule to have fun with."

He could see the anger on her face, as she walked towards the fire nearby. She pulled something out, something very hot. A branding iron, glowing red in the dark night. Jaime could only watch in morbid fascination, as she pressed it against Merett's left butt-cheek. The dumb boy howled in pain, nearly breaking free from the hold of the men who kept him down.

"You see this, Lannister?" Wenda yelled at him, a challenging look on her face. It was obvious that in the presence of her fellow bandits she had regained a tidbit of her courage, not that it would serve her well when they hang her. "You're next!"

"You only dig your own grave, Wenda," he replied with a cruel smirk. "By now it is already too deep to claw your way out. Enjoy what little time you have left in this world."

"Take this oaf to a cell and bring me that bastard," Wenda ordered the men. It was obvious that none of them were happy about being ordered around by her, but they complied none the less.

Oh, but what idiots they were. Four of them dragged Merett away to a nearby cage, but only the fifth approached his cell. Jaime would have laughed at such a grand display of idiocy, but he was too focused on the chance that would present itself in a moment. It would be do or die and he was not planning on dying anytime soon.

He looked around his cell but found nothing at first. Then he saw what he needed. A stone, large enough to be used as a weapon. But it was outside of his cage. Hopefully not too far out of his reach. So he backed away from the door, slowly, making it look like he was afraid of what the bandits were planning now.

"Afraid now, Lannister?" Wenda mocked him.

He stumbled and fell against the bars of his cage, just where he had seen the stone. His captors were too busy laughing at him, to watch what he was really doing. He tried to reach for the stone. But it eluded his fingers at first. The bandit who had come to fetch him had opened the door of the cage by now and entered the small space, a rotten grin on his dirty face. Just as he grabbed Jaime to pull him up, the young Lannister managed to grab the stone and use it as a weapon.

A sickening crunch could be heard, as he hit the bandit's face with all the strength he could muster Blood flew freely from the man's nose, as it was crushed underneath the stone. Another hit was enough and the man crumbled into a boneless heap of flesh and blood.

By now the other bandits had realized what was happening and tried to reach the door of the cage. But Jaime had already grabbed the bandit's weapon and jumped into freedom. Now it was his turn to show what he was capable of.

"What are you doing, idiots, kill this fool!" Wenda ordered.

The other four, who had been busy wrangling with Merett, were caught by surprise. Two were quick to let go of the burly Frey, only to regret this choice moments later. Merett was angry. Pain and humiliation fueled his anger as he broke free and began to pummel one of the men who had remained with him.

Jaime meanwhile had quickly reached Wenda, to take her down before she could cause any more trouble. The fight against her had neither lasted any longer than the last nor had it been any more difficult. Her wounds from the Smiling Knight's punishment were still fresh and a hindrance, so Jaime was quick to subdue her before he cut through the remaining bandits.

"Merett," Jaime hissed angrily, as he reached the Frey. The young man was still busy punching the face of the bandit he was sitting on… No, after Merett's tender treatment there hadn't been much left that could be called a face.

"Merett!" Jaime tried again, louder and more forceful this time.

"What?" the foolish Frey growled, as he looked up to Jaime.

"Get yourself one of their weapons and follow me. We have to get the ladies out of this camp before they notice that we are free," Jaime ordered before he quickly ran towards Ashara's cage.

She stood already at the door, watching him with her ever-curious eyes.

"That wasn't half bad for the foolish plan of a suicidal squire," she told him.

"Well thank you, my lady," he returned mockingly, as he let her out. "Can your new friend walk?"

Ashara looked towards her cell mate, before she nodded, "Yes. Jeyne can walk, don't worry. Just get us out of here."

"Stay close, I will protect you," Jaime ordered.

"Of course, my fearless knight," Ashara replied with a smirk before she went to Jeyne's side and helped the other girl up.

Meanwhile, Jaime looked around, trying to find the best way to leave the bandit camp. It was obvious that they were lucky. For some reason, the camp was half deserted, with only a few guards standing around, drinking or gambling near the fires.

"Merett, tie this girl up, we are taking her with us," he ordered the Frey, as he looked at the unconscious form of Wenda nearby.

It wasn't that he cared much whether she lives or dies, he knew that her death was a certainty now. But he pitied her and thought that a quick death at gallows was preferable to the torture she would likely have to endure from her bandit friends.

Merett grumbled for a moment longer but knew better than to talk back to Jaime. Even though they were both merely squires, their difference in rank was well known and would only be more profound once both of them would be knighted. Merett had never been of the clever sort, but following the orders of his betters had been beaten into his mutton head from the day he had been born.

"Come on, this way," Jaime quickly told them all, before they began to make their way out of the camp.

* * *

Arthur slowly leads his men through the dark forest, careful to avoid making more sound than necessary. They had quickly reached the place where Ser Tygett's men had been ambushed but found the area abandoned except for the few scattered corpses of the slain soldiers and bandits.

It was quiet, safe for the rhythmic sound of the nearby stream. Then he heard a rumbling in the distance. He allowed himself a predatory smirk, as he knew that the hunt was on now. If the enemy was really nearby, they would have to show themselves soon.

He continued on his path, moving further into the night and further into the territory they had deemed unimportant. It was a gamble. A folly if they failed to find the enemy camp, but if his hunch was right, the fight against the brotherhood would soon be over.

Soon enough he found what he had been looking for. It wasn't the camp itself, but a disheveled band of men, all armed with swords and some with bows. In the flickering light of their torches, Arthur could see the agitation on their faces. They had not yet realized that they were no longer alone and talked amongst each other.

"I'm not gonna die for this shit! We never gonna see any of the gold, Toyne keeps all to himself."

"Better shut your trap or else I'll shut it for you," another bandit growled. "The Smiling Knight will gut us all for your words!"

"They are busy pestering the king's men. We should run while we have the chance. There is no way I will get killed by the queen's damned dragon!"

"You'd rather be gutted?"

"Better than dragon fire!"

Arthur wondered why the bandits were suddenly in such a state of disarray. Punishment had not deterred them before or else they would have run the moment they had seen the king's army. Instead, they had stayed to fight, with an arrogance to their actions that rivaled that of some nobles. But now… Just why were they suddenly afraid? And of the queen's dragon no less? Had she come here? That would be a catastrophe. He really didn't wish to see that woman angry, especially not when her own skills and her dragon are about to be unleashed.

But he had not heard anything about Queen Senna returning from the North and even less about the current whereabouts of her dragon. But he would gladly use this opportune moment to strike. So before the bandits had even the smallest chance to react, Arthur and his men stormed out of their hiding spot and slaughtered the bandits. All but one.

The last of them had been gracious enough to talk. Strangely enough, the mere mention of the word dragon loosened his tongue.

Emboldened by their new finding, they quickly pressed on, towards the elusive camp of the Kingswood Brotherhood. For the first time in days, Arthur's hope of finding his sister grew and he even allowed himself the smallest flicker of hope that Ashara might still be alive.

Once they knew what they had to look out for, the camp was almost ridiculously easy to find and Arthur mustered all the strength he had in him for the upcoming fight.

There was a great commotion in the camp. There weren't that many bandits, a mere one or two dozen at most, but the commotion was caused by only a few of them. They were hunting someone, though Arthur couldn't see whom they were after.

He hurried his steps, to cut off the hunting bandits before they would get their prey. But he was too slow, the sounds of steel against steel made that much clear.

"Oh, what an ungrateful little guest you are, Lannister. Maybe I should teach you a lesson, don't you agree? A finger, or a hand maybe. Surely your father would feel more inclined to cough up the gold if we send him your hand with your fancy ring still on it."

"Madman, you are already dead, you just don't know it yet!"

The latter voice belonged to Jaime, Arthur was sure of it. So his squire was still alive and had managed to escape. The boy was craftier than he had given him credit for as it seemed, but he was also foolish to pick a fight.

"Stay out of this, the little lion is mine," a mad cackle followed the exclamation, "Go on, Lannister, pick up your sword. You against me, like honorable knights, one against the other. Now we will duel."

"You have no honor," Jaime replied angrily.

"Then I will take yours. You won't need it when I'm done with you."

Again the sounds of fighting filled the air and Arthur tried to run even faster than he had before. His men were hard pressed to keep up with him, but somehow they managed.

"Jaime, watch out!"

Ashara… His sister was there as well. Arthur cursed loudly. The damn trees made it hard to get closer to the fight. His sister was there, together with his squire and he would be damned if he was too late to save them both.

Moments later he had reached the clearing, where Jaime was fighting a knight in dark armor. More than a dozen other men stood around, all shocked by the sudden arrival of Ser Arthur and a large group of armed men.

Jaime was down on one knee, holding his sword with one hand, while the other was pressed against the flat side of his blade to stem against the sheer force of his enemies blows. Ashara cowered not far behind him with some other girl, while another boy with a sword stood between them and the other bandits.

"Now, now. This is very rude," the dark knight muttered. "We are trying to have an honorable duel here and you louts interrupt us."

"Ser Arthur," there was a great relief in Jaime's voice, as the boy saw his mentor.

But Arthur's eyes were focused only on the dark knight at that moment. "In the name of King Rhaegar Targaryen, first of his name, king of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, you all are hereby sentenced to die." Arthur bellowed at them. Then he attacked, followed by his men.

The bandits quickly descended into a state of panic. Some tried to flee, while others dared to fight the king's men. But none of them were able to put up much of fight. Except for the one man who had to lead them.

"Ser Arthur Dayne," the dark knight muttered.

"And you must be this Smiling Knight," Arthur replied, as he attacked.

"Hoho, so the famed Sword of the Morning has heard of me. I am truly humbled by this honor," the Smiling Knight replied before he cackled again. "I've been waiting to fight you. Toyne always said the time had not yet come, but I disagree. Tonight is our night, Ser Arthur. And when we finish, your sword will be mine."

"You shall have my it, ser, through your heart and your neck."

As they traded blows, Arthur quickly realized that they were evenly matched. For all the madness in him, the Smiling Knight was quite impressive with the sword. Sheer force would serve neither of them, but their struggle would be decided by cunning instead.

"Can you feel it, the thrill of the battle, Ser Arthur? It makes me so alive that I want to shed more and more blood. Luckily there is more Dayne blood nearby once I've emptied yours."

Arthur could feel the swell of anger inside of him. He tried his best to keep it from clouding his mind. His opponent was ready to commit any crime in a heartbeat and surely he would commit great atrocities against Ashara if he is given the chance to. But he wouldn't let him.

"Silence, how boring," the Smiling knight cackled, "Your squire is a better sport. All fiery and cussing. So amusing, these highborn lads. In the end, they all shit themselves when I cut them open, but before that, all of them pretend to be knights. But not him."

"You will kill no one. Your madness ends tonight," Arthur replied through gritted teeth, as his sword crashed against that of his enemy.

"You will never beat me. It takes a monster to defeat a monster and you Daynes are too noble for your own good."

"Well good thing that I am a Lannister then," Jaime spat before he appeared behind the Smiling Knight and rammed his sword into the hollow of his knee.

The knight lashed out against Jaime, leaving a deep cut on the boy's shoulder. "Insufferable rat, you will pay for this," the Smiling Knight bellowed.

Jaime had distracted their enemy and Arthur was quick to use the chance to his advantage. With one swift swing, his sword separated the Smiling Knight's head from his body.

"Jaime," Ashara cried out and quickly rushed to the boy's side. "You brash fool. My brother would have defeated this monster even without you getting yourself cut up."

Arthur watched the scene, still trying to regain his breath. The clearing around them was secured, the bandits had all been slain or they had fled deeper into the woods. Jaime was bleeding, but by the looks of it, the wound wasn't very deep. And both Ashara and the other prisoners were safe now.

"This is nothing but a minor setback. And I just couldn't stand here and allow this bastard to continue talking," Jaime muttered.

"Ashara," Arthur finally called out to his sister.

She looked up to him before she quickly approached him and hugged him tightly. Only rarely before had Arthur felt this glad in his life.

"I'm alright, brother. They had not dared to touch me. And Jaime got us out of the cages before they could change their minds," Ashara told him.

He looked down at his squire, for the first time with true respect. The boy had been annoying in the past. Arrogant and foolish. His tendencies had lessened after they had separated him from his family, but still… Now he was glad... glad that Rhaegar had talked him into taking the boy as his squire.

"Don't worry. Everything will be alright now. The Brotherhood is finished. And once Ser Barristan has Toyne and the rest of their leaders, we can go home," Arthur told her, as he continued to hold his sister close. Dignity be damned, after worrying for so long, he refused to let her out of his arms anytime soon.


	23. Return to Summerhall

Senna frowned, as she looked at the dead man before her. Another robed attacker, just like the ones who had hounded her in King's Landing for so long. She could only wonder for how much longer these cultists would pose a problem. She had assumed that Thoros' sacrifice had at the very least ended this blasted death cult, but as it seemed there were still some of these madmen left.

The Lord Commander of the Night's Watch shot her a grim look, as his men came to dispose of the corpse. Another attack against the queen, it was obvious that she was quickly becoming this man's living nightmare, as her presence at the Wall caused no small amount of trouble.

"This isn't one of our men. A new recruit, fresh from the dungeon in Riverrun," Qorgyle muttered. "I will order my men to keep a close eye on the other recruits."

"That would be a futile endeavor and I am well aware that your men are few enough to fulfill their usual duties without me adding more. They wouldn't be able to identify the cultists," Senna replied, "Just keep this quiet and continue as you would have."

"But..." Qorgyle wanted to protests, but he stopped quickly and growled in frustration, "Very well, your grace."

"You shouldn't worry so much, Lord Commander. I will leave as soon as Lord Stark has arrived to see his sister. There shouldn't be any more ill-fated events after that. And in any case, I will speak to my husband about your plight. Maybe we can find a way to alleviate some of the more pressing problems of the Night's Watch."

"That would be very much appreciated," Qorgyle replied simply. It wasn't entirely clear whether he was relieved about the promise of help or the fact that she would be gone soon. Maybe it was a little bit of both, but Senna couldn't begrudge him such feelings.

Not intent on staying in the scorched room, where she had just killed a man, Senna left to get some fresh air. Despite the biting cold, she preferred to be outside here. Not just because of the recent event, but mostly due to the shabby look of the entire keep. She could never be sure whether the roof above her would collapse or not. She had already cast some subtle spells undo some of the damage but refrained from going too far.

It wasn't a matter of secrecy, but rather a necessity. She wasn't entirely sure whether the attack of the shadows was a one-time event or a recurring threat to her and those around her. In any case, she had little magic to spare, at least not for something as simple as fixing a leaking roof or repairing a crumbling wall.

The large gates of the keep were opened, just as she walked across the courtyard. A host of no less than two dozen riders entered, lead by none other than Robert and Eddard. It surprised her how fast they had arrived, though the issue with Lyanna surely must have shocked them.

But then she had to frown when she saw that the pretentious lord of Riverrun had come as well. What an odd place for him to go, considering that he has no business here and no reason to see Lyanna. It was most obvious that he had come out of curiosity, not that she would tell him anything or allow him anywhere near the afflicted Stark girl.

"Senna!" Robert exclaimed as he jumped off his horse. There was a mad glint in his eyes, as he reached her and placed his large hands on her shoulders. "Where is she? Is it really Lyanna?"

"I wouldn't have informed you, had I not been sure about her identity," Senna replied drily.

Robert looked ecstatic, his lips curling up to a wide smile. She had never really understood his obsession with Eddard's sister and she likely never would, but seeing her friend this happy was a welcome sight, even though the feeling wouldn't last for long. Ned looked equally relieved, as he joined them.

"Come, I will take you to her," she told the two men, as she began leading them towards the room where Maester Aemon was currently trying to treat the girl. But she stopped for a moment, to address another matter, "You will have to wait here, Lord Tully. This is a family matter for Lord Stark and Lord Baratheon."

The man seemed to grumble for a moment but knew better than to test his luck against the queen. He was far too clever for that and realized that his family's future might just as well depend on the queen's goodwill. And she had no doubt that the shrewd man would try to find another way to get the information he craved.

But Senna didn't pay him any more heed, as she continued on her way.

"I have to warn you, though, Lyanna is not awake."

"Is she hurt?" Ned asked, his voice and expression betraying his worry for his sister.

Senna sighed deeply, not sure how to answer this question. "It is… difficult. At the moment I keep her asleep with a spell. For safety reasons."

"Why would you do that?" Robert asked in outrage.

"Because Lyanna has attacked me. She isn't herself at the moment. When I fought against a host of monsters beyond the Wall, she was among them. I nearly killed her when I laid waste to the entire area, but for some reason, she was spared from the brunt of my attack."

She could see the shocked look on the faces of both Ned and Robert. The latter was just about to begin a rant about her nearly killing Lyanna, but Ned stopped his friend and prodded her to continue with her explanation.

"Ned, you have to understand that your sister has somehow fallen under the influence of the very same people who have attacked me and my family. The people who have murdered Queen Rhaella, Thoros, and many more good people. And it may be hard for you to hear this, but I suspect that the same people are also responsible for the disappearance of your father and brother."

"But Lyanna has returned, surely Brandon and my father could still be out there," Ned said. He clung to this hope, especially now that his sister had been found.

And Senna hated to shatter his hopes, but she didn't want her friend to delude himself. "No, Ned. There is a darkness lurking beyond the Wall, so great and so pervasive, unlike anything I have ever seen before. And the further you get away from it, the worse it gets. Lyanna had been close to the Wall and if I had to make a guess I would say that she had been captured south of the Wall only to be smuggled to the other side by our enemies. But your father and brother… they had been far in the northern wasteland..."

"They have been gone for too long to hope..."

"Yes," she admitted, "It is unlikely that they are still alive."

"But you said that Lyanna has fought against you! What if they have forced them to serve them as well," Robert wondered.

Senna could only shake her head in dismay, "Then why haven't they shown up by now? Lyanna has resurfaced rather quickly, but Lord Rickard has been gone for much longer. Not to mention that Brandon had been accompanied by some of the best rangers the Night's Watch has to offer, so why have none returned or even left a trace to follow?"

She stopped, as they had reached the door to Lyanna's room. She hesitated for a bit, but it was obvious that she couldn't deny them entrance now.

"One more thing, before we enter. As I've mentioned before, Lyanna's ailment is not one of the body, but of the mind. It is like a madness and the few times I had woken her up, she tried to attack me again. Maester Aemon and I have been searching for a way to undo the damage done to her mind, but so far we have not made much progress."

Ned simply nodded, a somber look on his face. But Robert was far more agitated than his friend. He even pushed Senna aside and opened the door, so he could finally see his betrothed again. Ned followed him a moment later.

Senna waited for a few brief moments. She took some deep breaths, to calm herself for what she would have to do now. Ned and Robert needed to see what Lyanna had become, so they can understand and accept what she had to do now.

When she finally followed the two men inside, she found Ned and Robert next to Lyanna's bed. The young Lord of Winterfell looked sadly at his sister, as he spoke to Maester Aemon. But Robert sat on the bed, next to the girl, holding on of her small hands between his own.

"She feels so cold," Robert muttered.

"That is due to the spell I have used. There are no real side-effects or other ailments, even after long-term exposure. But for all intents and purposes she is frozen," Senna explained.

"Is there really nothing we can do?" Ned asked her.

"Not here, not at this moment."

"Wake her up. I want to see it with my own eyes. I want to see this madness you told us about. I cannot believe it without seeing it myself," Robert muttered.

"Robert..." Ned tried to placate his friend.

"No, Ned. We have to see!"

Senna sighed. The truth would only hurt her friends, but Robert was right. They had to see it themselves. There would always be that shred of doubt unless they saw it with their own eyes.

"Please step back from the bed," Senna asked.

Eddard and Maester Aemon were quick to walk away, the latter even leaving the room completely. The old Maester had listened to Lyanna's insane ramblings before and had obviously no interest in another repeat performance. But Robert remained at Lyanna's side for another moment, seemingly unwilling to let go of her. Only when Ned admonished him, Robert left the girl's side.

Senna was apprehensive, as she raised her hand, to cast the counter-spell to the magic induced coma Lyanna was in. As the words left her lips, Lyanna's entire body shuddered. Then her eyes opened and the unnerving coldness took hold of the girl. The harsh blue color of her eyes.

"You! Undo this foul magic! Release me from your foul magic, tainted queen, so I can end you for the master," Lyanna said coldly, as her eyes were solely focused on Senna.

"You and your master must be quite foolish, if you or he believe that I would allow you free reign here," Senna replied strongly.

But then she shuddered when she felt Death's familiar presence in the room. She couldn't spot him anywhere, but she knew that he was watching this scene. Likely either with morbid fascination or childish glee.

"Oh, but this time you have brought me more visitors than the blind dragon, how nice of you!"

"Lyanna," Ned said carefully, as he stepped closer. "What has happened to you?"

"I am free, brother," she replied with a cruel smirk. "Or at least I will be, once I have done as my master has commanded me to do. Only two more heads… or the one of your precious queen."

"Lyanna, I'm warning you..." Senna began, but the girl's mad cackling interrupted her.

"You have nothing to threaten me with, witch. This is between my dear brother and me. Let me lose, so I can finish what I have started with Brandon."

"Brandon! You know where our brother is?" Ned exclaimed with wide eyes. There was hope in his voice, hope that he might get both his siblings back, but it would be a shortlived moment.

Lyanna chuckled darkly, as she looked at her brother. "Oh, you will be reunited with him soon. Only two more heads and the master will reward me. The heads of my family are a small price for eternity at my master's side."

"You have…" Ned paled greatly, "No, this can't be..."

"But I have. You should have seen the dumb look on his face when I..." She couldn't finish her cruel speech. In an attempt to spare her friend, even more, torment, Senna quickly put Lyanna to sleep once more. But it was of little use, as the damage had been done.

Ned just stood there, as if he had been frozen solid by his sister's callous words. He didn't move, he didn't react in any way. It was almost as if he had just stopped working, his teeth clenched and eyes hard.

"You… you have murdered our brother," Ned muttered.

Senna was quickly by his side. She hugged him closely in an attempt to offer him some solace in this difficult moment. But Ned was too shocked to even register her actions, let alone to hug her back, even as she tried to soothe him.

As she looked to see what Robert was up to, she found him missing from the room. She wasn't sure where he had gone, but she couldn't leave Ned alone at that moment.

"Senna..."

"Yes, Ned?"

"Tell me that someone is controlling her actions. Tell me that my sister hasn't murdered our brother of her own free will… I can scarcely believe that a member of House Stark would harm another..."

"I am not sure," she wanted to give him another answer. To assure him that none of this had been voluntary. But there was just too much she did not know yet. How had Lyanna ended up with the cultists? Had she been a prisoner or a member of the cult? Was this magic that she could feel from the girl the effect of a curse similar to the Imperius she had known in her first life or was it more akin to the Dark Mark that Voldemort had branded his willing followers with? She couldn't offer Ned the answer he so desperately needed, not with these questions unanswered.

"Can you help her?"

"I will try whatever I can to help her. You have my word on that," she replied firmly, "But I will have to take her with me."

"To King's Landing?"

"No," she replied quickly. She wouldn't bring a possible threat anywhere near her children. Not even for Ned's sake. "I will take her to Summerhall. My… followers have rebuilt the castle for me and it will allow me a lot more freedom in my attempts to help your sister." And uncover more about this dark master who waited in the shadows, toying with the lives of so many people as if life itself was nothing but an idle game to him.

Ned slowly pushed himself out of her embrace and looked at her with determination. "Then I entrust my sister's future to you. Please try to help Lyanna… and if there is no cure for her madness, end her suffering."

Of all the things, she hadn't expected him of all people to ask this of her. She would have helped him regardless, there was no need for him to ask… but that he would ask her to kill Lyanna if all else failed, that was unexpected.

"You have my word," she replied simply, unable to even repeat his request at that moment.

"House Stark owes you a great debt, one that cannot be repaid even in a hundred generations," Ned told her firmly, "Call on us whenever you need, your grace, and the North will answer."

Her lips formed a thin line, as she looked at her friend now. Ned was kneeling before her, his head bowed in subservience. This wasn't how she wanted to see her friend, but she was no fool and knew just how important this gesture was political. Through their friendship and Lyanna's torment, she had bound one of the seven kingdoms to her family… Rhaegar would surely be pleased, though not with the price they all had to pay for this loyalty…

* * *

King Rhaegar felt at ease, for the first time in recent weeks. His army had returned from the Kingswood, victorious and with several of the kidnapped ladies. Even their losses had been of little consequence, even though the death of Lord Crakehall and several other notable knights had been rather tragic. However, none of them had been important to him or his family, so their deaths did little to ruin his mood. The fate of his wive's best friend, however, was crucial for the realm and his family, he had no doubt about that.

Lady Ashara was a little shaken, but otherwise unhurt, something that was quite fortunate for them all. Senna would be much more forgiving, knowing that her friend had not been harmed too much. But he was also aware that there would be a storm coming, once she finds out about his deception. But he would do it again. Not telling Senna about the danger Ashara had been in, had given them all enough time to deal with the problem in the conventional way. Without fire and blood.

There was a darker, more violent side to his wife that she had kept a secret from everyone. It wasn't the madness that the Targaryens suffer from, but rather the will to do the unspeakable if the yielded results are promising enough. And no matter how much she tried to be a good person for her family, she had shown that darkness on several occasions. When she had killed his father, without remorse, without hesitation. Or her relentless hunt for the cultists that had murdered his mother and threatened their entire family. He knew that those she loves would never have to fear her, but her enemies would never see compassion. Only fire and blood. He could only wonder what had caused her to develop such an unforgiving nature. It was certainly rooted in her own past and for the sake of understanding her better, he vowed to research House Peverell's recent history in much greater detail as soon as he would be able to.

"Was it really necessary to knight the boy? He is still quite young," Rhaegar said, as he read through Arthur's report of the events. They sat together in Rhaegar's solar, a large carafe of wine and two goblets on the table between them.

"Jaime has done well. He may be a hotheaded idiot sometimes, but when needed he has made the right choices and saved not just my sister's life, but also the lives of two other prisoners. Not to mention that he has captured one of the Brotherhood's leaders," Arthur replied.

"Some will argue whether or not he deserved it, but I trust you here, Arthur. But this does make things a bit more difficult for us now," Rhaegar said. He took a sip from his wine, before he continued, "Now that Jaime Lannister is no longer your squire, his father will be quick to send the boy back to Casterly Rock, where he will be out of our immediate influence."

The knight looked almost rueful. He knew that this was a problem, one that he should have thought about before knighting Jaime Lannister. Control over the boy was necessary for their plans, but at that moment in the forest, he felt grateful and just. Not knighting the boy, when he was so deserving of the honor, would have been an insult to both their honor.

"I will have to think of a new reason to keep the boy in King's Landing. We need to keep Jaime where we can control him," Rhaegar said before he sighed wearily.

"You seem worried, Rhaegar, though I doubt that it is Jaime Lannister who troubles you at the moment," Arthur observed. "Has anything happened to the queen?"

"Nothing that I would know of. Writing letters home is certainly not one of her favorite pastimes," Rhaegar chuckled lightly. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't imagine Senna sitting down to write long letters about her adventures in the North and what she had seen there. No, she was more the type to regale him with the stories once she returns from her visit to Winterfell.

"Surely she will return soon."

"I do hope so. The children are getting restless without their mother. Strangely enough, it is Daenerys who seemed to be bothered the most by Senna's absence," Rhaegar said. "My sister is in dire need of some companions other than my wife."

"Surely there are enough nobles who be willing to send their children to the capital for fostering."

"Yes, I think so, too," Rhaegar answered simply. His mind was already far away again, wondering where his wife was now and what she was up to. He really hoped that she would return to the capital soon. At the very least to calm his troubled mind a bit.

* * *

Summerhall… The last time Senna had seen the place, it had been a ruin. A pile of rubble, only vaguely reminding the people of the splendor and greatness the place had once stood for. What had been a burned out ruin less than a year before, was now once more an impressive castle, rebuilt with the fervor of thousands of faithful.

But it wasn't just the castle itself that surprised Senna with its size and grandeur, it was also the sprawling city that had grown just outside of the castle's walls. It was obvious that those who had built the castle for their queen had no intentions to leave anytime soon and so the small community that had lived here before had grown in leaps and bounds.

A great many people could be seen on the streets of this new city, with more people appearing from the buildings within moments after Senna's dragon had been spotted. There were so many people… she hadn't seen such a crowd since the day of her wedding, though the people here were not the bedraggled mass that so desperately hoped for their new princess to save them from their misery, but zealots. The people here at Summerhall were a unified force, united by their faith and service to the greater cause that the Red Priestess had likely preached to them nearly every day since her arrival.

Draco circled above the new city for some more time, to allow Senna to have a good look at her home away from home. It wasn't Myr, which she still missed so dearly. Neither was it like King's Landing, the monstrosity that fed upon the death and misery of the people living inside of its walls. Instead, it was a blatant attempt to pander to her preferences. Everything looked to clean, to exact and to perfect to be real. This wasn't a naturally grown city, it was an abomination with the sole purpose of pleasing her. Even the architecture was a blatant copy of her home in Myr, from Summerhall itself to the red temple that had been erected on the hill opposite of the castle…

"I doubt that Rhaegar will like this," she muttered to herself before she gave Draco the command to land in the castle's courtyard.

A large number of servants and guards had already lined up to greet her, lead by none other than Lady Melisandre, who smiled indulgently at the queen.

"Welcome home, your grace," the red priestess greeted Senna.

"Lady Melisandre," Senna replied cordially. She would have some choice words for the priestess, but not here, no in public, where everyone could hear them. She wasn't some foolish child anymore and knew that in her position her image is more important than a foolish temper tantrum, no matter how much she wished for some way to vent her ever growing frustration.

"I see that you have brought another… guest," Melisandre said, as she saw the limp form of Lyanna Stark strapped to the dragon's back. "Shall we prepare another room or..."

"A room, yes. Preferably without windows and a strong door to keep her contained. She is not a guest at the moment, but rather a prisoner. Please ensure that the servants know the difference."

"Of course, your grace. The best of your men shall guard her at all times," the priestess assured, as several guards appeared to take the girl, as soon as Senna had removed her from Draco's back.

"She will remain asleep until a time I allow her to wake again, but make sure that no one enters her room except me," she ordered the guards before she allowed them to take Lyanna away. Then Senna turned towards Melisandre. "And I believe the two of us have a lot to talk about."

Again the priestess smiled indulgently at the queen before she bid Senna to follow her into the long hallways of Summerhall.

The sheer splendor inside the rebuilt keep had taken Senna by surprise, as she had not expected the priestess to go this far. But what she had created here, was truly a home fit for royalty once more. Senna wasn't sure whether it was anywhere close to what Summerhall had been in the past, but it was impressive.

What quickly caught her eye was the color scheme the priestess had chosen for the drapes and carpets. Red and gold, not the most surprising choice considering Melisandre's affiliation, but to Senna, it was also a welcome reminder of the past. Memories of House Gryffindor and the pride she had once felt for her house at school resurfaced. Happy memories from a life that had doomed her forever.

"You have been really busy," Senna commented.

"A comparatively easy task, to prepare the home for our savior. It is here where your son will learn all he needs to save us from the darkness. You would be surprised how many people were willing to work day and night to serve their Phoenix Queen," Melisandre said, before she chuckled in amusement, "That fool from Volantis even wanted to send you a few dozen members of the Fiery Hand to guard you and your family day and night. But I managed to dissuade him."

"Thank you," Senna breathed. This was already causing enough trouble for her, no need to add Volantene temple guards to the mix. Now the High Septon had all the right to claim that she had given the followers of the red god the chance to fully expand to Westeros. It would be quite difficult to contain this now that they have actually built a large red temple in the heart of the realm. The only thing that would have made it worse, would have been to build a temple in King's Landing, right next to the Great Sept. But knowing Melisandre, the woman had most likely already made plans for that as well...

"But that temple..."

"People need a place to pray, my dear," Melisandre replied simply, "You can't possibly expect your faithful servants to attend those childish ceremonies these heathens have in their septs."

"The last thing I need is a religious turmoil in the realm. The followers of the Seven are just as fanatical as those of the Lord of Light and..."

"There will be no turmoil," the priestess assured, "Thanks to you, the whole world will see that the Lord of Light is the only true god. You are his instrument, his daughter born among us to spread the light in a world of darkness."

"Oh no, you will not try to make me your lord's daughter. This is going too far, Melisandre. I won't support this," Senna threatened, "You have tried to utilize me, to make me a symbol to rally the people. I am fine with that, it is not as if could be undone now, but no more than that. I am not a goddess, nor the child of a god. My father was mortal, my mother was mortal. They lived, they breathed, they bled, they died. I will not stand for this nonsense."

She had been the daughter of a goddess before and it was awful. Compelled to remain loyal to a mother that had all but abandoned her, sacrificed in a war that had never been her own. Reviled and feared. It was a nightmare that still haunts her dreams and likely will continue to haunt her even ten or twenty lives later.

"It is not my work you should fear, my dear," Melisandre assured her, "I am not the one to dictate your path. The lord alone can do that. I am merely an instrument to guide your son to his destiny, which is why I ensured that Summerhall is now ready to host Azor Ahai and prepare him for the long journey ahead of him."

Senna shook her head, as the distinct look of growing frustration grew on her face. "My son will remain in King's Landing. He is barely old enough to walk and talk and you want to turn him into a weapon. I will not allow that and you would be well advised to heed my warning, Melisandre."

The priestess remained unperturbed by the hostility shown by the queen. Not even when the magic reacted instinctively to Senna's change of mood and the air around the queen become heavy with the projection of power that escaped Senna's otherwise ironclad self-control. There was no fear like others would have shown in such a situation, but rather a great fascination with Senna's abilities and the possibility of witnessing the girl use her magic first hand.

"The long night lies ahead, my dear, and like it or not, your son will have to fight."

"I know," Senna growled. How could she not know? After what she had seen beyond the Wall and the warning Death had left her. She had still not figured out just why Death was so insistent that she would never be able to deal with the growing darkness on her own. Just mentioning the corruption of her soul in Tartarus did not really give answers and only raised more questions. But one thing was clear, Her children would need to learn to harness their power. For their own good and the good of all the people around them.

"All will be as our lord wills it," Melisandre said, as she suddenly reached out to Senna gently cupped her cheek.

The queen didn't stop her, quite contrary in fact. She had not forgotten those many nightmares she has had as a child. Nightmares that kept her awake and only abated due to the gentle guidance and calming presence of her caretaker… Melisandre had done much for her in the past, but despite all of that, Senna was reluctant to allow this woman free reign when it comes to her children.

And in that moment Senna realized just how much Melisandre still affected her. Deep down, there was still the frightened young girl, that had just lost her parents while her past lives haunted her every dream. It was a dangerous emotional bond, though she knew that she was reluctant to truly let go of it. At least not now, after she could admit to herself that it was really there.

"I will go and see to it that your guest is taken care off," the priestess suddenly continued.

"Melisandre..."

"Yes, my dear?"

"Be careful with Lyanna Stark. A terrible darkness has taken hold of her and right now I am not sure whether she serves our enemies willingly or by force and compulsion."

"I understand. I will have to make some more arrangements, but I am sure that we will find a way to contain her permanently if that is your wish."

Senna nodded, relieved that she had someone to share this burden with. If only for a few brief moments. But at this point, she was weary and content to let Melisandre run the show for now. She would visit Lyanna on the morrow and after that… after that, she would return to King's Landing, to see her family. She would finally return home.


	24. Devotion and Fear

After a long night and much-needed rest, Senna finally felt a semblance of normality in her life. Ever since she had left for the North, something had been off. By now she knew that it had been the dark magic she had encountered on the other side of the Wall. But here, in Summerhall, so far away from that darkness, her sleep had been restful and her dreams undisturbed. She was calm and collected, a content smile coming easily to her lips, as she dressed in the morning.

Melisandre had sent her a dozen maids to take care of whatever needs she may have. Senna had never really relied on more than one or two, but she couldn't bring herself to disappoint some of the eager and young girls the priestess had chosen. Melisandre's devious side was showing again when Senna realized that each and every one of these girls was from Myr and bore at least some resemblance to the handmaidens who were currently waiting in King's Landing for their queen's return.

Senna's mood only got better as she knew that she would be holding her children again before the day would come to an end. There was only one thing that would dampen her mood for a little bit, the necessary visit to Lyanna Stark, to ensure that her new prison would be sufficient to contain her.

The guards quickly lead her down towards the dungeons. The men had done as she had asked and found her prisoner a room without windows and a thick door. A few wards and Lyanna could easily be detained for an unlimited amount of time, that much was for sure. But Senna was worried about how Ned and Robert would react to Lyanna being incarcerated in a dungeon underneath Summerhall. Ned might understand her reasons, but Robert… he hadn't taken Lyanna's condition all that well. He insisted on the girl's innocence and that she was after all only another victim. But Senna wasn't so sure about that.

She pushed her worries aside and quickly began her work on the wards. It was a tedious branch of magic, one that she had never truly mastered. But she had learned the necessities to protect herself and those close to her. She couldn't understand, however, why some people were so obsessed with this. Both erecting and deconstructing wards was a real pain in her opinion.

After nearly an hour of work, she finished her task and decided to wake her esteemed guest.

"What? Where am I? Ned…?" the girl muttered, as she awoke from her magic-induced slumber. Then she saw Senna and shuddered in fear.

Senna watched this with no small amount of astonishment. This was certainly different from what the girl had acted like at Castle Black. But she wasn't convinced that this wasn't just another one of the girl's tricks. Her mind seemed badly broken when they spoke and she wouldn't be surprised should this be just another ploy.

"You are far away from home, Lyanna. Your brother has begged me to find a way to help you and I would never dare to disappoint a friend. But after murdering your own kin I feel hardly merciful," Senna told her openly. "But we will see if this oh so great master has truly controlled your actions or not."

"I… I haven't killed anyone… I..." Lyanna suddenly paled, her eyes losing focus. "Brandon… I… I didn't want to..."

Senna frowned as she heard this. It would seem that the girl's mind was even more fractured than she had anticipated at first. Or has the master's power decreased with the distance? What a strange occurrence, one she would have to investigate further. At a later time.

"Time will tell if you can be healed, Lyanna. For the moment I will leave you here, under the constant observation of my men. You will not lack anything but your freedom, see it as penance for killing your brother. Let's hope we can spare Ned the grief of losing his sister as well as his brother and father," Senna told the girl before she turned around and left the room. Lyanna hadn't moved even once and was still mumbling incoherently, but Senna didn't pay her any heed, as she made her way out of the dungeons.

She sighed deeply, as she finally stood outside, in the castle's courtyard. The sun was surprisingly warm for a winter day and she enjoyed it to its fullest, as she tried to quell the strange feeling that Lyanna would be more trouble than anyone could ever guess.

"The Light shines even brighter today, my dear. There is talk among the people that your presence banishes the winter cold."

"Melisandre," Senna greeted the priestess.

"Don't look so cross with me, my dear," the priestess said, "I neither started nor encouraged this belief, but you can't deny that your timing is once more impeccable."

"We all would be happy if this winter would end and if I had that power I would have used it long ago. But not even my powers are this great."

Sometimes she wondered how many more lives it would take for her to gain such powers. So far she had kept something from both of her previous incarnations. The idea that more repeat performances would result in her becoming quite powerful. If Death would allow that to happen. She doubted that he would allow for any other being to gain enough power to become his equal. She would likely get her final rest long before that would ever happen.

"You will return to King's Landing now?"

"Yes. I long to see my children and my husband. I had only intended to be away for a few days, but these days have turned into weeks because…" she stopped herself mid-sentence. She wasn't yet ready to tell Melisandre about this darkness beyond the Wall. The priestess would only see this as the confirmation of all her warnings. And maybe Melisandre had been right, Senna surely couldn't deny it anymore, but that didn't mean that she was ready to admit it.

"I have one request for you before you return to that city," Melisandre said.

"I am going home," Senna insisted.

"This is your home now, my dear," Melisandre told her with a meaningful look.

Summerhall was hers, that was true, but would this place really be worthy of being called a home? Myr had been her home and even after her marriage she had never stopped considering it as such. But Melisandre had spared no expenses to turn Summerhall into a replica of Myr, all for her sake.

"So what is it you want?"

"I want you to visit the temple before you leave. So many of the faithful have gathered there and to see you will only increase our claim to lead all of our Lord's believers. Like it or not, but you are on your way to unite them all and once that is done, you can give your son an army unlike any ever seen before. An army of light that will march with him into the darkness to vanquish the Long Night," Melisandre seemed quite passionate about this, not that Senna had heard the woman speak with any less fervor about her god and her plans. However, she had to admit that the idea of giving her son more help for whatever would await him in the future was quite tempting.

"You know that I am not very good at giving speeches," Senna sighed.

The priestess chuckled, amused by Senna's claim. Or maybe she had remembered one of the many times the young queen had tried to address a larger audience. Senna had been told that especially her earlier attempts at this had endeared her to many… not because of the words she had said, but because of the entertainment she had provided the people… The clumsy attempts of the beautiful child to find her place in the world of adults, Melisandre herself had called it that some years ago.

"All we need are a few words of encouragement. Praise them for what they have done here. Thank them and tell them how important this is for you and your children," Melisandre instructed her, "You are now a cornerstone of their faith. Until your son is of age, you will be their leader, the Lord's chosen queen."

"I doubt that many of the priests in the Free Cities are happy about what you have turned me into," Senna muttered. "Hell, I'm not happy about what you have turned me into. I remember that the priests in Pentos and Volantis had always been rather difficult to work with."

"They will be brought to heel. You can create miracles at will. Your power is..."

"It is magic, Melisandre, not some divine blessing. It is a curse, a burden, and a gift."

"And who are you to claim that the all of this couldn't have been given to you by our lord?" the priestess asked in return.

Senna sighed. Explaining where her magic had come from would take far too long and truth be told, the story would be so outlandish, that she herself wouldn't believe it, hadn't she been there for her two previous lives. Hell, some days she isn't even sure if all those sounds and pictures in her head are memories or nightmares conjured up by childhood trauma… There was only one true certainty in her life… Death. Inevitable, with power over her that still frightens her too much to spend too much time considering the true nature of his existence.

"Let's get this over with, yes? I really want to see my children," Senna relented, just to move on, so she could finally be on her way.

Melisandre smiled almost triumphantly, as she leads Senna out of the courtyard and onto the large main street of Summerhall's newly erected city. Twenty warriors in ornate armor quickly rushed to her side and marched in two groups in front and behind her, acting as her personal honor guard.

She was reminded of Thoros and the rest of her men, who had died for her in King's Landing, though all of these warriors here seemed even more zealous than those who had fought side by side with her against the cult. Not to mention that these men were dressed in far more fanciful armor, much more befitting of a royal or temple guard.

People stopped whatever they had been doing, all watching their queen with rapt attention as she passed. There were great reverence and adoration, much to Senna's surprise. More than a few even went as far as kneeling down as she walked by, praising her and the Lord of Light in the same breath.

"They seem very… devoted," Senna commented, as they passed yet another group of kneeling believers, lead by a young woman in red robes similar to Melisandre's own.

"Your actions speak for you, my dear. You are the mistress of flames, the Phoenix Queen. In these dark times, the people yearn for hope and you are giving it to them, whether you like it or not. And once Prince Daeron comes here to begin his training, Summerhall will become the center of our faith."

"He is still a baby," Senna protested, "He won't be coming to Summerhall for a long time."

"But he will come here eventually. I am still busy preparing everything, but when the day comes, he will have only the best instructors and guides our world can offer him."

Senna only hummed in acknowledgment. She wasn't opposed to getting her children only the best teachers. They would need them, both in their roles as royal scions and for whatever part they will have to play in the future fight against the darkness that lurks in the north. After what she had seen, Senna was no longer in any position to deny that her children have to be prepared to fight one day, though she would see to it that most of the burden would fall on her shoulders, not theirs.

Soon enough they reached the temple, which sat on the smaller hill opposite of the castle. It was a grand building, just as big, if not bigger, than the temple in Myr. Built from polished white stone, it was a magnificent sight in the pale morning light.

Two large braziers sat on either side of the large oaken doors to the temple, flanked by statues of legendary heroes of the Light. But Senna stopped to inspect one of the statues more closely, as she recognized the man, not from stories she had been told as a child, but from her own more recent memory. It was a statue of Thoros. It was far more flattering than he had ever looked while alive, but the face, especially the expression was spot on. It was a great tribute to her fallen friend.

"Thoros of Myr, Lord Protector of the Phoenix Queen…" she read the inscription on the pedestal. "I was not aware that you had such great respect for him. In fact, I remember you calling him a drunken whoremonger in one of the letters we exchanged after he had become the captain of my guard."

Melisandre smiled only benignly, as she answered, "We may not have agreed on a common way to serve our lord, but I cannot deny that he has served you well and even his death is worthy of a hero's praise."

"Thank you," Senna replied, truly grateful that Melisandre had honored Thoros better than she had done herself, much to her shame.

"He will forever be remembered," Melisandre said, "But come now, the people inside must be waiting for you."

Senna nodded and entered the temple itself. They entered a very large circular room, similar to the temple in Myr, only with a much larger fire burning at the center. The dome-like ceiling was open at its center, allowing the smoke to escape the room.

The moment the priests and temple visitors saw her enter, all of them were down on their knees bowing so deeply before her that their foreheads touched the ground. Senna had never wanted things to become like this, but it had happened regardless. They worshiped her as a goddess herself. She didn't like it at all but decided to play along. Melisandre may have done all of this to satisfy her own skewered way of serving her god, but in the end, the benefits would outweigh the problems, Senna was sure of that at least. Not that there was a turning back now.

"Are you happy now, Melisandre?" Senna asked, "You have made all these people believe that I am divine myself."

There was even a giant statue of her on the other side of the room, showing her in full battle regalia, with her staff in one hand and Fawkes sitting on her other shoulder. How exactly the artisans had managed to create such a realistic depiction of the phoenix was a mystery to the queen. She doubted that Fawkes had come here to allow them a good look at him. Or maybe he did. He did seem kind of vain for a bird...

"You do wonders, my dear. All of this is your due reward as the lord's chosen," Melisandre told her, "But maybe you would feel inclined to show another wonderous part of your power. Actions do speak louder than words and you just said yourself that words aren't your strength."

Devious as ever, Melisandre had likely planned for this from the start. Senna realized that she was remiss for letting the priestess goad her into this, but now that she was here, she might just as well indulge her.

"Only this once," Senna replied before she approached the large fire in the center of the room. A fiery pit, filled with glowing coals and wood. She could feel the fire's heat on her skin but approached regardless. They had burned scented woods not long before she had entered, she quickly realized. The smell of scented oils reached her nostrils, as she got closer, another reminder of Myr and the busy market streets that she had always loved to visit as a child. Melisandre had accompanied her on some occasions and knew full well which smells she likes…

As she stood in front of the fire, her back turned to all the people, she cast a flame freezing spell on the fire, to allow herself safe passage through the flames. It would be the kind of act that would satisfy Melisandre and the faithful for a long time and it would give her the sort of credibility as the Lord of Lights chosen that Melisandre had tried to give her through mere words alone.

The people gasped, some were even torn between watching in morbid fascination and rushing to stop their queen from throwing herself into the raging fire. But when Senna moved through the burning pit, unscathed, their fear turned into awe, following by fervent prayers.

"Behold our lord's chosen, the Phoenix Queen, mother of Azor Ahai. Praised be her name, as she and her child shall deliver us from darkness," Melisandre announced loudly, as Senna left the pit on the other side.

"Praised be our queen, praised be the Lord of Light," the faithful echoed with one voice.

It was this outcry of zealous loyalty, that assured Senna that she had succeeded with one thing on this day. She was now more than just a queen. She was now truly a symbol, a religious leader. A few years ago she had never wanted to be either, but now, after witnessing the true threat this world had to face, she accepted it all, to gain the power needed to protect all she holds dear.

* * *

Jaime Lannister was bored. Worse than bored even. With his knighting, his service to Ser Arthur had ended and as such his duties in the capital. He was now one of many knights in King's Landing, waiting for orders from anyone with sufficient authority to issue them to him. But for reasons unknown to him, neither his father nor the king had made use of him so far.

He had expected his father to send him back to Casterly Rock as soon as possible. There had even been talking about a possible marriage to one of the Tully girls, though thankfully he had found out that this potential agreement had fallen through after the girl had sullied herself with some lowly boy from the Vale. In fact, Jaime would be happy without having to deal with the prospect of marriage and children for some more time.

Mere weeks ago he would have even dared to declare that there was only one woman for him, though she was forever out of his reach, unobtainable due to reasons of morality. But now… Cersei had grown ever distant to him since she had tried to establish herself at court. The king was lost to her, Jaime couldn't understand why she was still so obsessed, but in truth, he had stopped caring about that as well. At least he tried to, ever since she had even failed to see him or even congratulate him for his accomplishments in the recent conflict. Instead, his sister spent much of her free time at the Great Sept, much to his confusion and his father's growing aggravation. In the end, the time had come for Jaime to accept one absolute truth. Cersei had become merely a dream now, a lost obsession and his fate would lie elsewhere...

"Ser Jaime!"

Jaime almost jumped in surprise at the sudden interruption. He had been so deep in thought, that he had lost track of his surroundings. Inside the Red Keep to boot. By pure willpower alone he managed to keep the embarrassment from showing.

He turned around, to find Lord Commander Selmy standing nearby, a reproachful look on the older man's face as he regarded the young Lannister knight.

"Greetings, Lord Commander," Jaime said, as he tried to sound more dignified than he felt at that moment. The situation felt so eerily familiar to one of his father's long and arduous reprimands.

"Loitering is unbecoming of you. Be more mindful of where you are, Ser Jaime," Ser Barristan continued, "You are a knight now, your actions carry far more weight and will reflect not just on your own reputation but also on that of your family."

"I understand, Lord Commander. I will be more careful from now on," Jaime replied, though only with great reluctance. It wasn't as if he was walking around like a drunken wreck like that Baratheon fool the queen was so fond of.

"I am aware that your knighting came too early, Ser Jaime. You are still young and untried, but the situation at hand called for an appropriate reward for your actions. But it would seem that you are still in need of proper guidance and, though reluctantly on my part, I will have to take up that task for as long as you..."

"Oh, there you are!"

The Lord Commander's lecture was suddenly interrupted by the cheerful voice of Lady Ashara, who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, only to stand next to Jaime as if it was the most natural place for her to be.

"Forgive me for keeping you waiting, Ser Jaime, but I had to attend Prince Daeron for longer than I had expected."

Jaime wasn't sure what kind of game the girl was playing but decided to play along, if only to escape Ser Barristan's unwanted lecture of knightly conduct at the royal court.

"Please excuse us, Ser Barristan, but we are in a bit of a hurry now," Ashara suddenly told the older knight. "I have some important errands to run in the city for the queen's upcoming return and I have asked Ser Jaime to accompany me for safety reasons."

She delivered her fake excuse with such perfection that Jaime himself questioned his own memories for a moment. There was a deviousness in this girl that he had not expected, though he was surely remiss for doing so. He doubted that anyone in the queen's employ was simply there for physical appeal alone.

Even Ser Barristan seemed to believe her, as he nodded slowly, the frown on his face slowly making way for a more understanding expression. Maybe there was even more, though Jaime wasn't that adept at reading people's feelings. But the way the knight looked at the young lady was not exactly the indifferent look of professionalism he reserves for everyone else.

"In that case, I will not delay you any further. Good day, Lady Ashara, Ser Jaime," the Lord Commander said, before he continued on his way.

Jaime waited until the man was out of sight before he looked at Ashara again. When he did, he found her watching him with an impish expression.

"Thank you, Lady Ashara," Jaime said. He wasn't so arrogant to acknowledge that she had spared him many tedious hours with the Lord Commander.

"You saved my life, Ser Jaime, the least I can do is spare you the lecture," Ashara replied genially, "But I was not lying when I said that I need someone to accompany me into the city. I was actually on my way to see my brother about this, but he would surely be just as happy knowing that you are the one protecting me. Unless you have other plans, of course."

Jaime chuckled, as heard her request. Guarding a simple lady had surely not been what he had expected his first duty to be, but on the other hand, a walk through the city was better than dying of boredom.

"I can spare a few hours of my precious time," Jaime replied with a cocky smirk.

"Wonderful," Ashara said, as she began walking away from him, "Come along now, time is short."

He followed her, curious about why she was in such a hurry all of a sudden. He waited for his question until they had left the Red Keep behind. He didn't trust the keep and the vast majority of the people in it. It would be safer to tell a secret in the midst of a thousand commoners than in the supposed safety of the keep. Too many people, too many ambitions.

"So, is the queen really coming back soon?" Jaime asked as they had finally reached the busy streets of the city.

"Honestly, I have no idea when she will be back. Could be today, could be tomorrow, or in a year. Whatever she is doing, it is important," Ashara replied simply.

This time even Jaime's willpower wasn't enough to keep the incredulous look off his face. "Wait a moment, so none of you have any idea what the queen is doing at the moment?"

She merely hummed in agreement, much to his growing unease. A woman like Queen Senna, who had powers that others cannot even begin to understand, doing the gods know what in the realm… This was either a good thing or a terrible mistake. He knew from Ser Arthur that not even the king was fully aware of the queen's current actions and whereabouts. And now he had to learn that not even her closest confidants know anything.

"Don't be afraid. Queen Senna is only trying to keep the realm and her family safe," Ashara told him when she saw the worry on his face.

"And that is why no one dared to tell her about your capture before she had left," Jaime muttered.

Ashara sighed, the cheerfulness from before now fully gone, as she stopped walking and turned towards him. "Keeping secrets from the queen is never a good idea."

"Is she that dangerous?" Jaime asked, a frown carving deep lines into his face.

"She has her duties, duties that she cannot fulfill if people keep vital information from her," Ashara said almost inaudibly. "I hope that his majesty knows what he is doing."

The last sentence alone caused Jaime no small amount of questions. It was obvious that Ashara knew far more about the queen and what she was up to, but it was just as obvious that the girl's loyalty was firm with Queen Senna first and the rest only a distant second.

He followed her silently after this, deep in thought about the queen. He was well aware of Cersei's aversion, no her hatred of the woman who had supposedly stolen the crown that should have been hers. Cersei was delusional in this regard, but only now he realized just what kind of dangerous game his sister was playing.

Ashara soon leads him towards the outskirts of Flea Bottom. The stench of death, disease, and human excrements filled the air, mixed into one unbearable smell that overpowered everything else. He wondered what exactly one of the queen's ladies could possibly want here, but now he understood just why she wanted a knight to escort her. This was no place for a lady to be, especially not a pretty one like Ashara, who would be preyed upon by all the lowlife scum in the city.

"Just what are we doing here?" he asked her, but she merely smiled at him, before she entered one of the better-looking buildings nearby.

He hurried to follow her, surprised when he suddenly found himself in a large room filled with children. This place… it was an orphanage. A big one, too. And judging by the reaction of the children, this wasn't Ashara's first visit.

The children swarmed the lady, bombarding her with questions and silly stories, all trying to get her attention first. There was only one question that was asked over and over again, the one Ashara answered first. When would the queen come to visit again?

"Soon," Ashara promised and the children seemed utterly happy just hearing this.

Jaime watched the entire scene with keen interest for some more time, until all the children seemed somewhat happy and left Ashara alone again. The girl then proceeded to talk to the few adults in the room, before she rejoined him near the exit.

"This wasn't your first visit," he stated, as she was back by his side. It was a stupid question and he knew that full well, but it was the only thing that came to mind after watching this entire scene.

"This is one of the queen's projects to help the people. She sponsors this and several other orphanages in the city, among other things. Usually, Queen Senna would take the time to visit them on her own at least once ever fortnight, but in her absence, either Lady Mina or I have taken this role."

"The children seem happy."

"I can only hope that they are. The queen wishes to give these children a chance at a future, something that they had been denied before. She even wanted to sponsor similar places in other cities as well, but sadly the lords of Westeros do not like outside interference in their domains."

She almost spat that last part, obviously truly enraged about this. He could understand why any other lord would try to keep the queen's influence out of his lands and somehow he even doubted that the queen's reasons for doing this were simply altruistic in nature. And then there was something else that caught his attention here.

"Say, are there no Septa's involved here? Usually, they would be swarming such places to recruit more lost souls to the ways of the Faith," Jaime asked her.

Ashara laughed lightly, greatly amused by the way he had phrased his question, "The queen does not want them here. She keeps the Faith as far away from her social projects as possible. She has little love for the High Septon and his followers and though she would never try to dissuade anyone from his or her believes, she tries to shield children from the religious games of the powerful in this city."

"I see," he hummed, as he tried to digest this piece of information. It was no secret that the queen was in league with the followers of the red god, but he would have never expected her to snub the High Septon so publicly.

The relative peacefulness of the room ended abruptly when some children came running inside, shouting about a great shadow above the city. A contagious excitement spread in the room when the word dragon was spoken for the first time. A dragon was flying over the city and that could mean only one thing.

"She's back," Ashara exclaimed happily. "Come, Jaime, we need to get to the Dragonpit. If the queen has really returned, she will be there for sure!"

* * *

Senna heaved a content sigh, as she saw King's Landing pass by underneath Draco's wings. It wasn't exactly home, but she was just happy to see her family again. Just a few more moments.

"To the Dragonpit, Draco," she ordered her dragon, "You already had your meal, you glutton, we don't need to fly towards the market."

The dragon growled angrily in reply but obeyed his mistress none the less. Slowly they descended towards Rhaenys' Hill, where the gates of the Dragonpit stood wide open. Senna could see that many people were watching her now, some in fear of the beast she sat on, others in joy because of her return.

Draco landed more roughly than necessary, likely his way of telling her that he was not content with the size of his breakfast this morning. The dragon would always be a grumpy arse, she reckoned, whenever he was hungry. But by now the degree of control she had over him kept him mostly docile regardless. She was the dominant one, Draco knew that and though he liked to challenge her, the dragon was far too clever to push his luck by going too far.

"You stay here and I will have some of my servants bring you a goat or something. But try not to set half of the Dragonpit on fire when you cook it this time," she told the dragon, as she stared him down. "Now be a good boy."

She knew that the weeks away had given Draco a different feeling about what it means to be free. While she had been in the North, he had even hunted on his own for some time, something that had obviously pleased him. But she also knew that Draco was as lazy as a dragon can get and preferred his food to be delivered to him. Senna could only hope that any of the other dragons she planned to hatch in the future would be similarly disposed.

Draco retreated into one of the darker corners of the Dragonpit to sleep, as Senna slowly made her way out. She decided to walk towards the Red Keep instead of just apparating to her rooms there. It would allow her to see whether anything had changed in the city in her absence. And after the ruckus in Summerhall, she would enjoy a stroll in a city where no one considers her a divine being.

But just outside of the large gates she already met the first familiar face.

"Ashara, why am I not surprised that you are the first to see me after my return," Senna exclaimed, genuinely happy to see her friend again. She had missed Ashara's company and witty remarks.

"Your grace," Ashara said, as she curtsied. In public, they had to act all stiff and pretentious, both of them were hard pressed not to laugh. But as soon as they were in private, things would be different.

"I see you've made a new friend. Has your brother ordered his squire to keep an eye on you?"

Ashara laughed, but shook her head, "I asked him to accompany me. And he isn't a squire anymore."

"He isn't?" Senna looked at Jaime with a raised eyebrow, not sure what to make of this. "Then I guess congratulations are in order, Ser Jaime."

"Thank you, your grace," the young knight replied stiffly.

"I am sure that there is a very interesting story attached to this sudden promotion," Senna continued. "So, care to tell it to me? It is a long walk back to the Red Keep."

Ashara suddenly looked less enthusiastic than before and even Ser Jaime looked reluctant. Something had happened, Senna realized, and by the looks of it, she doubted that she would like it very much.

"Ashara, answer me!"

"Well… Jaime saved my life..." And so Ashara began the tale of her inglorious captivity and the dangerous escape. Senna didn't say another word on the entire way back to the Red Keep, her face a stony mask.

* * *

Rhaegar felt nervous. It was unbecoming of a king to feel like this, but for some reason, he couldn't help himself. A dragon had been sighted, which could mean that Senna was back. He should feel happy about her return, yet he was both somewhat reluctant to face her. For two reasons, actually. He had no doubt that Senna either already knew about what had happened to Lady Ashara, or at least she would find out very soon. She would be angry, that much was assured. But he had all reason to be angry as well.

The letter that Lord Commander Qorgyle of the Night's Watch had sent him was a glaring reminder that Senna had broken her promise to him. They had both lied and deceived each other, something that disturbed him deeply. He had his reasons and he was sure that Senna had her own, yet what could this mean for their marriage, when both of them were unable to remain sincere with each other?

"I can confirm that the queen has indeed returned. She has entered the Red Keep about an hour ago," Arthur told him, as he entered Rhaegar's solar.

Almost an hour and yet she had not come to see him… This would not bode well for them.

"Rhaegar, you should go and see her. She is currently in the nursery with the children, so the chances for a calm and peaceful talk are much better," Arthur encouraged. The knight was likely the only man in the Red Keep who knew the full extent of this possible friction between king and queen and Rhaegar was thankful to have Arthur as his loyal friend by his side.

"I guess you are right," Rhaegar sighed. "I made a decision and I would do it again. For her sake and our own."

"She will understand, I'm sure of it."

"Maybe," Rhaegar said, as he left his solar and began his march towards the nursery on the other side of the keep.

Never before had the Red Keep appeared to be so big to him. And so full of life. Countless people, everywhere, all of them staring at him as he passed them. He wondered how he must look to them, as he continued his solemn march.

As he reached the nursery, he found all of the queen's current knights waiting outside, accompanied by some other guards and Ser Jaime Lannister. The latter came as a surprise, but Rhaegar couldn't bring himself to care about Tywin's son at that moment. Instead, he entered the room and stopped dead.

There she was, his beautiful wife. He had truly missed her in those past weeks, far more than he had expected. He had grown rather fond of her, almost dependent on her strength by his side. And now she was back.

She sat on the ground, surrounded by the children. She had Daeron on her arms, as she spoke to Daenerys, who listened with rapt attention. Viserys was there as well, holding Alysanne, who tried to get a hold of his hair to pull it. The entire scene was so serene and perfect, he did not dare to intrude upon it. But Senna saw him and quickly called him over.

"Rhaegar. Don't just stand there, join us," she called out to him. Her voice was soft, a benign smile on her face, as she looked at him. For a moment he wondered whether she really knew about what he had done… or whether he should bring it up at all. Maybe she knew and had decided not to push the issue since she had broken her promise as well. Yet he doubted that their marriage would survive them just refusing to talk about the important issues.

"So you have returned," he began softly.

"I have," she replied simply, "I can't just abandon my family. All those I love are here. My friends, my children… and my husband."

"Much has happened in these past weeks. Things we need to talk about," Rhaegar told her.

For a moment he happiness left her face, but it quickly returned when Daeron's small hand pressed against her cheek, returning her attention to the child in her arms.

"We will talk later. When the children are in bed. I don't want them to hear and I doubt that either of us will get much sleep tonight," she said.

Viserys suddenly yelped in surprise, when some of Alysanne's toys started to float around him and the girl. She giggled happily, as she tried to catch them, despite Viserys' best efforts to keep her on his arms.

"Not even a year old and they already show accidental magic," there was pride in Senna's voice as she looked at her daughter, "When I entered it had been Daeron who tried floating out of his bed. Both of them will be more difficult to handle, now that their magic is acting up."

"Is there nothing we can do to prevent it?"

"I would never even consider binding their powers," Senna said aghast, "This is part of their very nature, this is part of who they are. I will try to reign it in but prevent it… never."

"I didn't mean it like that," Rhaegar exclaimed. He wondered why she had so quickly jumped to such conclusions. Had there been someone in her past who had tried to do the same to her? Her parents maybe?

"I know," Senna sighed, "I will not leave my children alone again. At least not for this long. They have so much to learn, but they are still far too young. Maybe I pay my library a visit. My ancestors must have known some tricks to prevent the more… destructive outbursts of their offspring."

"Maybe the Maesters..."

"No. I don't want any of them near my children. It was bad enough that one of them had to be the first person to touch them when they were born, but I won't allow the Maesters to come experimenting on my children."

Again there was this abrupt change in her temper. But this time he was sure that it was a maternal instinct that caused the shift, and not some unknown trauma. In moments like this, he wanted to curse, though. If only he knew more about Senna's past, maybe he would be better able to help her cope with the situation they were in now.

"Rhaegar..."

"Yes, my love," he answered.

She smiled as she heard the endearment, something that made it obvious that both of them were still very much trying to make their marriage work.

"Let's make a promise, here and now, in front of our children," she said. He nodded and she continued, "From now on, no more secrets. No more broken promises."

"Yes, I would like that," he sighed, "I mean… I promise."

"So do I..." she said.

* * *

Rhaegar had only remained for a little while after they had made that promise to each other. His duties as the king called him back to the more pressing matters at hand and she wasn't entirely opposed to some more hours of peace to collect her thoughts.

The long talk that followed in the evening was not pretty, though. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't just let go of the anger she felt. To be kept out of the loop when one of her dearest friends had been in mortal danger… She wasn't sure what might have happened, had Ashara died. Losing someone dear without the chance to help, that was one of Senna's worst nightmares. And Rhaegar had nearly made that possible…

It also beckoned one question. And she dreaded the answer. Was her own husband afraid of her? Did he really fear her power so much, that he would try to contain her?

He gave his answer long before the first words passed over his lips. A resounding yes, even though his lips told her otherwise. His eyes, his composure, it all screamed yes. He was afraid of what she was capable of and no amount of love and trust would ever change that. A bitter truth, but one she had to accept. She would have to learn to accept it and she would… eventually.

But she had disappointed him as well. She had broken his trust just as much as he had broken hers. It was a subject of great shame, though she had to admit that she would do it again. The things she had learned were just too important. Just like he would keep secrets from her again if he believes it to be better for everyone else involved.

Just as Senna had predicted, the night had been long and neither of them had gotten much sleep. Their long overdue conversation was needed to lay a new foundation for their marriage, one that would hopefully endure all the misery and hardships their future would hurl at them.

Little did they know, that the next great test of their relationship was only a few days away…


	25. Dragon's Rest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi there. I am really sorry about the prolonged absence and the shortness of this teaser.
> 
> My problem is easy to tell, but rather hard to overcome, namely a severe case of writer's block. I know what I want to write, I know how the story should continue, but everything I have written recently has been... wooden and lifeless. I try to get back on track, but at the moment I am only making small progress.
> 
> So, I really didn't want to leave you all with the disappointment of a hollow author's note here, so you will get a little teaser for one of the future plotlines that will be important for Senna's relationship with Rhaegar and their dynamic as husband and wife. It's short but better than nothing...

Despite the quickly approaching end of the winter, its last frozen fingers kept the world in an icy grip, especially in the mornings, before the sun would rise to warm the world beneath. But despite the chill, Senna was up and about long before the dawn.

She had traded the warmth of her bed and the embrace of her husband for the cold streets of King's Landing, as she ventured towards the Dragonpit. She was alone, something that Rhaegar would be most displeased about, but it was what she needed. Disguised as Dorea, she could travel unseen and undisturbed. And that was just what she needed. Undisturbed moments, alone with no one around but her faithful dragon.

Six days had passed since her return. Six days filled with the almost desperate attempt to return to a normal life. Things had changed. Rhaegar and she had changed and somehow the mere span of a few weeks time had left them in an awkward position. It wasn't the love she felt for him that had been dimmed, but the feeling of coherence.

Had she truly been so blind before? Blinded by love and protectiveness, that she had entirely missed that they did not live together, but next to each other. Despite her work for the people in King's Landing, she was not truly a queen. Rhaegar ruled, Rhaegar counseled, Rhaegar bore the burden of the crown, unflinching… but alone. And she, as his wife, had a life of her own. The time in Summerhall had made that painfully clear. Rhaegar was the king of the Seven Kingdoms, with all duties and burdens that entailed. She was the Phoenix Queen of the people, an almost mythical figurehead for a religion that was absolutely foreign to this realm.

For many hours she had deliberated how to change this grievance, to make her and her husband whole again... no, for the first time in their relationship. The children were the first step. A large and immensely important step. But even in the days, since here return, Rhaegar's time to be with his children and his siblings had been scarce at best. Alysanne, Daeron, Daenerys and Viserys tied them together, but he and she still remained apart.

But how was she supposed to change this? She had purposely avoided any foray into politics before, so she wouldn't burden Rhaegar by being a foreigner who dabbles in matters the nobles didn't want to see her anywhere near. It had been the right decision, to give Rhaegar the time to become the king he needed to be, but her place in the ruling of the realm was lost. At the same time, she couldn't involve Rhaegar in her own matters. As king, he had to stay away from any matters concerning the foreign religion. The last thing he would need would be trouble from the overzealous and petty High Septon...

Soon enough she had reached the Dragonpit and dispelled all magic she had cast on herself. Draco was still sleeping, a deep rumbling sound escaping his nostrils as he heaved giants breaths. She was sure that he had noticed her presence the moment she had entered the pit but decided to return to sleep. Even as she gently caressed the scales of his belly the dragon did not rouse.

"Some days I envy you, Draco," Senna sighed, "Your life seems so simple. You sleep, fly, eat and leave a mess that gives the stable hands who have to clean up after you nightmares." She laughed lightly, as she sat down, her back leaning against the dragon's belly.

As she sat there, her gaze began to wander. The Dragonpit had been repaired in recent years. It wasn't a half-broken ruin, but rather a sanctuary for her overgrown lizard. But it was also dark… and empty.

"Are you lonely, Draco?" she wondered, as she saw the many empty little caves all around. Long ago there had been many more dragons here. Now Draco was the only one left. Maybe even the last dragon in the world. "Sometimes I feel lonely, too. I have friends and family now, but I am still alone with the burdens I have brought with me from my previous lives."

"Self-pity does not suit you," Death's dark voice scoffed.

Again the dark specter appeared before her, in his incorporeal mist form. A naked dementor, only that he had no need to draw upon her worst memories. He was the worst one all by himself.

"What is my true purpose here?" she demanded to know, "You always play your games with your prophecies, but it is hard to believe that you would even care about any such thing."

"You are here to learn," Death replied.

By now Draco had awoken. Dragons themselves were also beings of magic, just like she was one herself, so it came as no surprise that Draco saw the specter and considered his dark presence a threat. Almost immediately he curled around Senna, shielding her with his massive body.

"How touching. You give this beast the name of your first childhood nemesis and now he is your obedient little pet. Makes me wonder whether or not I should bring that annoying little bastard back for your next life. Just to see how he would react to hearing about this."

"Why are you even here?" Senna groaned.

"Because it unsettles you. And it isn't every day that one of 'my' pets manages to become a divine leader of a cult without me pulling the strings."

"I am not divine," Senna retorted.

"You had been in the past. As divine as a demigod who stole immortality could hope to be."

Senna flinched, as some of the more unpleasant memories of her past life were forced to return. It was just what Death had wanted.

"Immortality is a fluke. Even gods can die… I died, despite that damn apple."

"Only I am eternal. As are you, for as long as I find you amusing," Death cackled.

Sensing her growing agitation, Draco decided to rid Senna of her unwanted assailant. Without warning, he unleashed his fiery breath on the dark specter, though it was a futile endeavor. Death remained, undisturbed, cackling in amusement before he slowly faded away.

"Good boy," she praised the dragon, despite knowing that he wasn't responsible for Death's departure. "I'll see to it that you get an extra goat today. Or maybe a few more hours in the air, would that please you more?"

The dragon growled loudly. She wasn't sure what he had chosen, but she decided to go with both. It was bad enough that Draco had to spend so much time caged in the Dragonpit. But here in King's Landing, the people were much more fearsome of the dragon's presence than they were in Summerhall. Maybe the people there just had more trust in her ability to keep Draco on a short leash if necessary…

"You know, maybe it is time for you to get some company," she said, as she pushed herself up from the ground. She had neglected the other eggs for far too long and it might be a good choice to empower Rhaegar some more by giving him a dragon of his own… once she had found a way to hatch them without blowing up half of the Red Keep like last time.


	26. Obsession

King's Landing… Oh, how Robert hated to be back in this cesspit of backstabbing and diseases. But it wasn't as if he had much of a choice. He wanted to see Lyanna and to help Senna prove that Lyanna was indeed just a victim and not one of the culprits behind all the death and chaos that had troubled the realm.

He had traveled as swiftly as his horse was able to reach the capital, where he expected to find the queen. It was pretty much the only place except Myr he knew she would likely go. And with her children being in King's Landing, it wasn't all that difficult to guess where she was headed.

But as he traveled, the doubts about Lyanna grew with each passing day. He tried to ignore it, but the fact that Ned himself had seemingly given up on his own sister had been a hard blow…

But he would get answers now. From Senna and from Lyanna herself. He had to know the truth if only to calm his own mind. His own future would depend on it. It would be either with Lyanna… or not at all…

"This city reeks," Maege Mormont complained, her expression mirroring the disgust audible in her voice. "How can anyone live with this smell."

"They get used to it or leave. I prefer to do the latter," Robert muttered.

He wasn't sure what to think about his new traveling companions. True to his word, Jeor Mormont had sent both his heir and his sister with Robert, no matter how much or how little he would think of this. Jorah, Jeor's son, was a tight-lipped fellow, rarely speaking. Maybe he was still mourning the death of his wife like this father thinks, or maybe he is just a constipated bastard. Robert was quite sure that it was the latter.

But his aunt, Maege, was an entirely different case. Loud, and more often than not, so blunt with her remarks that it bordered on rudeness, she was about to be a constant thorn in Robert's side. It didn't help that she wanted to fight him at least twice each day. Usually, he would welcome any chance to let loose… but not against a woman. He does not hit women, his mother would have his head otherwise.

"I'm quite curious to see that queen of yours again," Maege commented.

"She's your queen as well," Robert growled.

"The day she travels to Bear Island and has her dragon burn those raiders to cinder perhaps. Right now she is the wife of my brother's lord's king," Maege replied with a crooked grin. "But they say she can do wonders, didn't see her do any the short time she had been in Winterfell."

"Senna is… unique. Earn her trust if you want to know more, her secrets are not mine to tell."

Maege chuckled in response. "Suit yourself, I'll get my answers alright."

They traveled through the city without getting stopped even once. Despite his long absence, Robert was still a well-known visitor in the city and no matter how much he despised the sound of the word, he was considered a courtier.

Soon they had reached the stables of the Red Keep, where they left their horses to continue their search for the queen on foot. There were a few places Robert expected her to be. The nursery is the first he would visit. If they even let him get anywhere close to it, now that Senna's children were there. He wasn't exactly a close friend of the king, so allowing him to come anywhere near the royal heirs was likely not something the guards would allow without an argument.

"Robert!"

He groaned in annoyance. Another distraction, he wasn't in the mood for any more of those. But his annoyance was quickly forgotten when he saw his father approach him. The man looked older, more weary than the last time Robert had seen him, but otherwise he seemed to be in good health… for a man living in pit of snakes, that is.

"It is good to see you again, son. I was surprised to hear about your arrival when the servants told me that you had been spotted at the stables."

"I'm well, father. But I won't be staying for long," Robert replied.

His father looked sternly at him, almost as if he was about to lecture him. But then the Lord of Storm's End saw the two Northerners behind Robert and refrained from doing anything that might be considered damaging to the reputation of House Baratheon.

"Father, these are Jorah Mormont, son, and heir of Lord Jeor Mormont of Bear Island and his aunt, Maege Mormont. They are my traveling companions," Robert introduced the two, albeit somewhat awkwardly.

"Well met, my lord," Jorah said calmly, as he bowed his head in a show of respect for the powerful lord before him. Maege just nodded mutely. Robert counted each word she didn't speak as a small blessing.

"My servants will have some rooms prepared for you," Steffon offered the guests, "But you will have to excuse me, I need a word with my son. In private."

No one protested, as one of the toadies that followed Robert's father stepped forward and lead the two Mormonts away. Steffon, meanwhile, guided his son down the corridor and into an empty room. Only after he had closed the heavy door, Steffon spoke again.

"Months, Robert. You've been away for months, not even bothering to send a single message to me or your mother. She was worried half to death because of you. Had Lord Stark not sent me a message, thanking me for the invaluable help you have been to him, I wouldn't have known what you had been up to in the first place!"

"Anything is better than sitting around in this city, doing nothing and growing fat," Robert exclaimed angrily. "Ned needed my help!"

"So did I! So do I! You are my heir, Robert. I need you more than you could possibly understand."

"You have enough loyal servants. And if you are in such a desperate need for a son to parade around, you can drag Stannis here. Maybe that would even improve his manners," Robert scoffed.

He knew that he had gone too far when he saw the fury on his father's face. His father had always been calm and collected, so much that it was sometimes easy to forget that he was a Baratheon, but in the rare cases that someone got him angry, Steffon was a prime example of the feared Baratheon fury.

"You are my heir. You will have to take my place when my time has come, Robert. But instead of preparing yourself for that, you drink and whore and you run away like some petulant child. About the only good thing, you have done in recent years is the friendship you have cultivated with the queen and only the Seven themselves could ever hope to understand why she keeps you around."

His father's rage did not explode, as Robert had expected, instead, it was simmering dangerously, daring him to take the wrong step and see everything explode.

"Right now our family is in desperate need of you and that friendship you have with the queen," Steffon continued.

"I don't understand..."

"Of course, you do not. The situation in the council is getting more and more difficult, Robert. We have two factions fighting for dominance even though no one even wants that fight. But the king's trust is shaken and we have the trouble of being on the wrong side of the rift."

Robert had no idea what his father was talking about. He had never heard a word about any trouble in the king's council. Not even Senna had said a word, and she would have surely told him about any such thing… if he would have listened, he realized. He groaned loudly, as he realized that his single-minded obsession with Lyanna had blinded him too much recently. He hadn't even spent that much time with Senna because of that and even now he was only here for Lyanna…

"Just what do expect me to do?" he asked his father.

"The king has lost much trust in Tywin recently. He treats him with respect and listens to his advice, but it is plainly obvious that he listens more to the thoughts of Lord Arryn. One reason for the growing rift is the queen herself and her growing involvement in affairs of the faith. Tywin counsels to curtail her influence before it becomes a problem. Lord Arryn, on the other hand, sees great dangers in limiting the queen because of the love the common people have for her."

"And you want me to tell Senna to stop? Are you mad?"

"Nothing of the sort. But we need a mediator. Someone who can interact with the queen and influence her to see reason," Steffon replied. "We knew that there was a risk of having a foreigner as our queen, but no one could have foreseen her growing power over those fire worshippers."

"I can't help you with that. You know how stubborn she is. And as along as the king does not wish for her to stop, no one will be able to change her mind," Robert replied. "But I have to go now."

"Talk to her, Robert."

"First I have to find her, but I make no promises," Robert told his father.

"She is out in the city with a large group of followers, she won't be hard to find," Steffon told his son. "And once you are done there, go see your mother. She is worried sick for you."

"I will," Robert sighed. He really hates King's Landing. Every single time he comes to this city, it turns his life into a convoluted mess.

* * *

Senna watched with a smile as Ashara sat amidst the many children in the orphanage and told them a story. Her young friend was greatly loved by the children, for whom she had cared in the queen's absence.

But the scene was also a sad one. In the months since her last visit, the number of orphans had grown greatly, a result of the winter's icy grip on the realm. Many children had lost their parents and siblings, most to sickness and hunger and even though the winter was nearing its end, the situation would need time to get better.

One of the children suddenly ran up to her. It was a small girl, only four or five by the way she looked, with dirty brown hair and a gaunt face. Her dark eyes seemed almost haunted, as she looked at the Queen as if Senna was death personified. But it wasn't fear the girl showed, it was resignation.

"What can I do for you, young one?" Senna said kindly, as she knelt before the girl, to be closer to her height.

"Can you… can you do magic… for us?"

Senna was surprised by this request. A magic trick… as if she was simply a mummer of sorts. Or more like one of the Braavosi actors she had seen herself when she had still been a young child. Coming from a small child the insinuation was not insulting, but rather amusing to her and the chance to cheer the sullen child up was quite tempting.

"What do you want to see, young one?" she asked, as she decided to play along. Just a moment of joy for the children was worth the hassle afterward. And she had already used magic in public, during fights against the cultists. Her powers are a secret nearly everyone knows but no one dares to talk about.

"They say you can make fire!"

"Really? I can make fire… I can do so much more, but fire it shall be." She wondered briefly if this was one of Death's wicked games with her life. She had the full potential of a Valyrian witch and more, but all she ever got to show was fire… it was tiresome, to be honest.

The girl nodded slowly, unsure whether she would be punished for asking such a thing of the queen or not. Judging by the dark look the matron shot the girl, punishment was definitely a part of how they would raise the children in this orphanage. Senna had never been hit has a child. Never. No one in Myr would have dared to raise a hand against a daughter of House Peverell.

Senna smiled reassuringly at the girl, as she mutters a spell that created a small flame on the palm of her hand. She had no need to turn around to know that her guards would have thrown themselves on their knees to worship her as their god's chosen, had she not made it clear to all of her remaining myrish guardsmen that public worship is highly frowned upon and not acceptable at the moment. Their loyalty to her, ever firm and unyielding, made them comply without question.

The girl's face lit up with joy and awe and many of the other orphans ran up to them to see what their queen was doing. It was easy to entertain them like this, even more so when Senna cast a flame freezing charm as well, which allowed her to touch the flame unhindered.

"You really are a witch!" the girl exclaimed suddenly. The matron was quick to grab the girl and drag her away, berating her loudly.

"Wait," Senna ordered. The little girl, so happy only moments before, was shaking with fear now. But Senna wasn't so who she was afraid of. The matron or her? "Tell me, my girl, who told you that I'm a witch?"

It wasn't the word that bothered her all that much. She was a witch. She had been one in this life and the one before. But in this world and more precisely in this realm, the word witch was more commonly seen as an insult to besmirch the reputation of a woman with skills and power.

The girl looked at the matron first, fearful to answer outright. But when Senna prodded her again and ordered the matron to release the girl, she got her answer.

"The Septa did it. She comes here sometimes and she always says that you are an evil witch and that only the Seven can save us… She makes us pray… I don't like praying, it makes my knees hurt..."

A Septa… Senna had to keep herself from snarling as she had heard this. She had given strict orders to keep away any and all interferences of self-appointed religious benefactors, no matter if they serve the old gods, the new gods or the red god. The last thing these children needed was some idiot telling them that only faith can save them.

The matron paled drastically, as she became the center of all attention in the room. It was obvious that she had deliberately allowed a Septa into the orphanage, most likely at times when neither Senna nor any of her ladies were scheduled for a visit. This would end now… and she would need to visit each and every orphanage and other welfare projects she had in the city, to root out all of the Faith's influence. She wasn't doing this to indoctrinate the masses, especially not for people as vile as the current High Septon and his cronies.

"It would seem that I have to replace the matron in charge of this orphanage," Senna exclaimed calmly. "Guards, see to it that this woman is removed from this building."

She watched as the men dragged the woman away, as the now former matron begged for forgiveness. Senna wasn't in the mood to tolerate such blatant betrayal and she didn't really care for any flimsy excuses. The woman's reaction to the girl's words was proof enough for the queen. And by showing no mercy to one, others would think twice about crossing her again. Life was harsh and cold out there, on the streets, away from the queen's warm protection.

The children were scared witless, as they watched the armed men drag away the woman who had watched over them all the time. They were too young to understand why this had to be and Senna wasn't sure how to explain this to someone so young.

"Don't be alarmed, little ones. The matron has done the queen a terrible disservice. She has betrayed her trust and put you all at risk. Queen Senna is here to protect you, all of you. All will be well," Ashara said. The children knew her well and trusted her words.

Senna was glad to have Ashara with her. She managed to calm the children down. It solved one problem, at least temporarily. But now she would need to find a new matron. It wasn't that there was a lack of women looking for a chance to escape the dangerous streets of King's Landing. But to find one that would be worthy of her trust… that would be truly difficult.

For a moment she wondered whether it would be better to send the children to Summerhall, where the High Septon's influence would not reach them. But that would undermine her own effort to keep the children away from priests and septons. At Summerhall they would be little more than slaves in Melisandre's ever growing army of zealots.

"I need to return to the Red Keep," Senna said with a deep sigh, "I don't wish to ask too much of you, but can you stay a little longer, Ashara? I will leave you some guards and arrange for a temporary caretaker for the children."

"I am happy to help, your grace," Ashara replied dutifully.

Senna nodded solemnly before she turned away and left the orphanage. It was just one of those days. And it was getting worse it seemed.

"Senna!"

She cursed her luck when she saw Robert approaching her with swift steps. The last thing she needed was to listen to his lovesick ramblings about her other headache…

* * *

Rhaegar was worried. When he returned to his chambers in the evening, his wife was already there. Rare as it was these days, as she had taken to staying up late. Too many tasks and too few hours in each day. So far he hadn't asked her which tasks keep her up so late every night and deep down he dreaded the answer. Tywin's misgivings about her actions, no matter how much Rhaegar disliked them, were still not entirely unfounded.

But as he entered the chamber they share, he saw his wife, sitting on a chair near the roaring flames in the fireplace. The fire cackled madly, likely spurred on by her magic. She looked tired, so very tired, but still as radiant as ever.

"You've returned later than usual," she said, her eyes still staring into the flames.

"You are the one who is early tonight, Senna," he replied evenly.

"Is that so?" the ghost of a smile played on her lips, as she turned towards him. "I have to confess, I seem to have lost track of time today."

"If it means that I get to see you more often, I hope you lose it more often then," he told her with a smile.

She laughed lightly in return. She stood up from her place and approached him. For what seemed to be the first time in months, she kissed him with the same passion as she had in the past. There was a want, a need that both of them had not felt in a long time, as they reminded each other that they are still husband and wife, tied together by a strong bond.

Even after their kiss had ended, he still embraced her tightly, refusing to let her go so soon. His Senna, the woman he was willing to face any opposition to protect. Tywin and his suspicious mind be damned.

"It may be early, but it's been a long day, my love," Senna told him, her voice tired and low. "It seems that every time I deal with a threat to our family, ten new ones arise. And it is not just the threats to the realm that worry me, but the realm itself that seems to become a threat to us."

"Has something happened?" he asked her, as he looked at her in worry.

"Don't worry on my behalf, Rhaegar. Just Robert being insufferable and a Septa trying to usurp one of my orphanages. Nothing that I can't deal with on my own," she said.

He watched her silently for some moments, trying to read the deeper meaning of her words, the things left unsaid. She had the annoying habit of speaking much and saying so little. Too many secrets, for both of them.

He wasn't much concerned about the troubles of Lord Steffon's son. Robert Baratheon was and always will be an unruly child. Lord Arryn had told him as much. But he never gave reason to doubt his friendship to Senna. And thanks to Robert's very public obsession with Lord Stark's younger sister, even rumors of infidelity on the queen's part die a quick death when Robert is involved.

Yet the news about her quarrel with a Septa… it would only worsen the gossip of Senna's supposed religious ambitions. If she were to be seen in public, fighting against the High Septon's followers, lords like Tywin would only strengthen their resolve to see her curtailed…

"There is one thing..." she began.

"Yes?"

"I've been thinking about this for the longest time, but… I wish to give you something. A great gift, if you are willing to take the risks that come with it."

She was cryptic as ever and he wasn't really sure what this gift would be. Something risky… coming from Senna, this could mean just about anything.

"What risks are we talking about?" he asked her, as he searched her eyes for answers.

"A dragon. It is time for us to make it abundantly clear to the realm and beyond that House Targaryen rules supreme. A dragon riding King is exactly what the people will need as a reminder."

She spoke with such conviction about this matter, that it left no doubt that she was telling nothing but her true intent. Another dragon… the cost of hatching the first dragon had been high, what steep blood price would the second cost the realm?

"Senna… the danger to you and the realm, how can you be sure that it is possible to hatch another dragon. You said it yourself, the first one had been an unexpected accident. How can we be sure that it is possible? And even if it is, what price would we have to pay?"

"Any price would be worth it. I will not gamble with the lives of our children. Neither will I gamble with yours."

"But with your own!" he replied quickly, heatedly.

A sardonic smile graced her lips as she looked at him. "I will not allow any mistakes to be made. Not this time. I will study the old texts first and find out all I can about how our ancestors have hatched their dragons. There will be risks, but it will be worth it. In time I will hatch all the eggs I have left and our family's power will never be doubted again."

He wondered just what she might really mean by that. Was it something she had seen beyond the Wall? Some other hidden threat inside the realm? No, he realized. The lords and the Faith. All those who still doubt her to this day. By giving her family dragons, fire made flesh, none of them would dare to rise up again.

She saw his apprehension and showed him a supportive smile, "Trust me," she breathed before she leaned in and kissed him once more. The more Targaryens with dragons the better. It explained why she had promised Viserys his own dragon, once he would be old enough to tame it.

He knew that there was little else he could do bust trust and support her. Even without his consent, she would still try. It was the most frustrating and the most intriguing quality she had. Her free will combined with the power to follow her dreams. It made her truly unique… and frightening...


	27. Shards of the past

Senna watched silently, as a group of armed guards lead Lyanna Stark into the room. The queen was not exactly happy about this and showed her disapproval openly for all to see, but to spare herself the headache that was Robert Baratheon, she allowed this little and well-controlled risk.

Robert was in the room as well and jumped up from his chair as soon as Lyanna had entered. He had even knocked his chair over, as he rushed towards the woman he believed to love. It was just that. A false belief. Senna had seen such behavior in the past. The obsession stemming from denial and desperate hope. Stubbornness played a large role in Robert’s case as well. He barely knew who Lyanna Stark really is, yet he is acting like a besotted fool as if he had been doused with a whole cauldron of Amortentia.

“Lyanna! Are you alright? Have they treated you well?” Robert asked quickly, as he tried to pull the girl in for a hug. But Senna’s guards stepped in and held him back, a task that required three grown men, due to Robert’s considerable strength. “What is the meaning of this, Senna?”

“Understand, Robert, that Lady Stark is a prisoner. She has admitted the murder of her own brother, Lord Brandon Stark, the acting Warden of the North. For all intents and purposes, she should have been hanged at Castle Black, when she admitted the murder,” Senna told him matter-of-factly. “She is only here and alive because I consider Eddard a dear friend and don’t wish to see him hurt further.”

“This can’t be right...” Robert muttered as he looked at Senna. Then his eyes returned to Lyanna, “Tell me! Tell me that this isn’t the truth!” he demanded of the young girl.

“I… I don’t know… Brandon is… was...” Lyanna continued muttering incoherently, her eyes never leaving the ground before her feet.

“Take Lady Stark back to her room and make sure that it is locked,” Senna ordered, as she approached Robert.

“I can’t believe it,” Robert growled. “Why would she kill her own brother? The Starks aren’t inbred bastards like...”

“Like my families?” Senna supplied a bitter note audible in her voice. Both Houses Targaryen and Peverell had been all too fond of keeping the bloodline clean, though the Peverells still had repeatedly intermarried with Valyrian families in Lys and Volantis. Her own mother had been a Volantene old blood, likely the only reason why she herself hadn’t been born a bloody fool like some of her cousins.

“That isn’t...”

“Robert, Lyanna is guilty. The blood of her brother Brandon stains her hands and she would have killed Eddard and Benjen as well, given the chance. I don’t know what has happened to change her so much, but…”

“But?” Robert demanded heatedly.

“But the way she acts, the way her personality seems to switch around when certain conditions are met… I have reason to believe that she is under someone else’s control. There is definitely a faint trace of magic on her. It’s old and powerful and I have not yet had the time to study it further. But whatever it is, we have to get used to the notion that her condition might be permanent,” Senna told him, with a deep sigh.

She walked away from him, towards a nearby table where her servants had put some drinks. It was too early in the day for wine, so she took some of the water instead. Not because she was thirsty, but because of the tense situation and the need to keep her hands on something that isn’t a wand or her staff. She wasn’t really sure why, but her temper had been slightly more volatile as of late and in tense situations such as the one she was in at the moment, she needed every excuse to keep her magic in check.

“You are a witch, a goddess even if you believe the insane prattle of those fire zealots. There has to be something you can do!”

“I am not a goddess,” she clarified quickly. “And the only thing I can think of at the moment would be to enter her mind to search for the root of the problem there.”

“Then do that!”

She frowned and fixed him with a deathly glare, “I abhor this branch of magic. To toy with the minds of others, either through spells or potions, it is an abominable act. It takes away even the last shred of dignity from those who are subjected to it. Invading someone’s mind, controlling it, changing it to suit your agenda, that is… inexcusable. Even in this case, even for a murderer like Lyanna, I can’t just go to her and mind-rape her in the hopes that it will change anything.”

Bitter memories of her past lives passed by her inner eye. Memories of Voldemort using his connection to her past self to set up a trap. Memories of the accursed potions master and the torture he had dubbed training… And the horrendous time in her second life, when she had nearly surrendered herself to the Titan Lord's control… No, she was not fond of any sort of magic connected to the mind. She’d rather die than become such a monster herself...

Not to mention that Senna was afraid. Afraid of the one answer to the unasked question. What would she do if Lyanna had never been controlled? What if she was a willing part of the same death cult that had hounded the capital for months? The answer was simple. In that case, Lyanna would not see the light of the next day. But she dreaded the impact that could potentially have on her friendship with Ned and Robert. They had become somewhat dear to her in the little time they had spent together. As long as she had Lyanna locked up, she had the valid excuse that she was trying to help...

Her rant had also left a profound impression on Robert as it seemed. For once he remained silent, deathly silent even. Never before had she seen his exuberance curbed in such a manner that even the fire in his eyes seemed to dim.

He quickly pushed past her to get to the table and before she could even say a word, he had already downed the first goblet of wine and filled another. Only after the third, he looked at her again.

“So there is nothing we can do?”

“I have tried my best to isolate her here. To use magic to shield her from the influence of her master. So far the success had been… inconsistent. There are times when she seems to be the little sister Eddard remembers so fondly, but in other moments she is cold and dark, pacing in her room like a caged animal, waiting to find a way out and kill its captor.”

“So she is lost to us...” Robert muttered.

Senna placed a hand on his large shoulder, in an attempt to soothe him. The time had come for him to abandon his obsession with Lyanna Stark and no matter how hard that may be for him, it would be better in the long run.

“There is little I can do at the moment, but for Ned’s sake I will not give up yet,” she told Robert honestly. “But you… you need to move on, Robert. Curing her...” she hesitated a moment. Curing was definitely not the word she had intended to use, but it was the most suited to placate her friend and keep him from doing something foolish. “Curing her will take a long time. Years, decades even. The girl you wish to marry is gone, but your duty to your family remains...”

“To the Seven Hells with my duty! I’m not a tool for you and your husband to use. I won’t just forget my feelings for the sake of your or my father’s plans! Let Stannis shoulder your damn burdens, he’s better suited anyway,” Robert exclaimed angrily before he stormed out of the room.

Senna didn’t stop him and so even her guards allowed the irate heir of the Stormlands to walk away. This had not gone as Senna had hoped and she frowned deeply as she considered the possible repercussions of this day. She wouldn’t put it past Robert to just abandon everything.

Lord Steffon has two other sons. Both healthy and though the youngest, Renly, was just a small child, the second born, Stannis, was known to be a dedicated and dutiful man. He would be the better lord, she had little doubt about that, but she disliked the idea greatly. Stannis was an unknown. Someone whose loyalties are unknown. And at this point in the greater game for the throne of the Seven Kingdoms, an unknown participant would be worse than a known enemy…

* * *

 

It was early in the morning, as the sun had barely risen above the horizon, as the streets of King’s Landing slowly filled with life. The higher the sun rose, the more of the city escaped the frozen lethargy of the ongoing winter and the more turmoil spilled from the houses and into the streets.

From the lowest beggar to most the skilled craftsmen, all slunk through the dirty streets and alleys, to earn enough coin to live another day. Yet the people were no longer as downtrodden as before. There had been a shift, one that all the people could see and feel. The temperatures were rising once more and the icy grip of winter slowly receded with every day. Even for the most hopeless of people, the end of winter was a reason to rejoice.

But among the masses were a few figures that were different from the rest. Not to the naked eye, as they were dressed in shabby robes, made from the cheapest of materials and riddled with holes. A simple disguise, to blend in with the commoners, to do their secretive task for their queen.

There were three of them, servants of the queen, some willing, some reluctant. Lead by the eldest daughter of House Dayne, they moved through the bedraggled crowd, to reach their goal.

Ashara slowly pushed through the crowd, not saying a single word, her eyes downcast to keep anyone from seeing her unusual eyes. Her violet eyes were far too recognizable and nearly everyone knew about the beautiful queen and her equally stunning ladies.

Any other lady in the queen’s employ, ladies with less recognizable faces, could have taken this job. But Azshara, who saw herself only second to Princess Elia when it comes to the queen’s trust, wouldn’t let anyone else do this. The task was too important and the risk to the queen’s beloved projects in the city would not allow for any failure. So she had gone out by herself, only accompanied by two armed men.

Benjen Stark hadn’t been her first pick for a companion. Though she had certainly liked his older brothers, the youngest wolf was rather withdrawn and shy around her. The same couldn’t be said about her other companion. Even the most hideous and dirty rags Ser Jaime had the ability to stick out in a crowd. In that regard, he was just like her, one who just couldn’t hide completely.

Neither of her companions was ideal… well, neither was she. But the absence of the queen’s knights and guards would have been noticed much quicker, now that the protection of the royal heirs had shifted the attention of a great many greedy men on the children and their protectors. A Lannister and Stark, though even more prominent in name, were not missed for a day or two. Noble boys are noble boys and they tend to get lost on the road of life in their youthful love of adventure.

When she had approached the two, Benjen had been reluctant and Jaime eager. The former was careful and contemplative, the latter was bored out of his mind and jumped at any chance to escape the mindless rituals of everyday life in the Red Keep.

So they had left the Red Keep, under the protective cloak of the night and began to wait. In an alley across from one of the Queen's buildings. It was one of the shelters, where the homeless of the city could escape the harsh winter nights and where the poorest could get themselves and their children at least one meal a day. But this was also one of the places, where the unwanted Septa had encroached upon.

Ashara had to admit, albeit begrudgingly, that this Septa was no simple buffoon. The moment she had heard about the queen’s actions at the orphanage, she hadn’t returned there even once. This Septa was one of the slippery kind it seemed, a woman who dared to oppose the queen but dared not face her head on.

“She won’t come,” Jaime muttered, as he looked at the entrance of the building. “Someone must have warned her.”

“She will come,” Ashara replied stubbornly. “Whatever her motives may be, she can’t achieve anything by staying away.”

“And who's to tell that it is only one Septa? Could be several. And others, too. The only other person with zealous followers who do his bidding without asking except the king is the High Septon. Not counting your queen, of course.”

“She is your queen as well.”

“She is still a foreigner to the people. My father sees it, the king sees it, so why don’t you open your eyes as well. Even as we speak, she is away from the Red Keep, being gods know where. Not to mention that army of fire zealots she has at Summerhall. Believe me, she may be our king’s wife, but that alone does not make her our queen,” Jaime growled.

Ashara had known before that Jaime was one of those who opposes the queen. Maybe not oppose, but he is still a Lannister and all of the golden haired crowd had shown little more than suspicion and defiance to the queen. Out of all of them, Jaime was surely the least obstinate. Prouder than he should be, but unlike his vile sister, deep down he still believed in a cause greater than the name Lannister. Ashara had to admit, she rather liked the idealistic boy that was hidden underneath the armor of pride and impudence.

“One day, Ser Jaime, you will understand her. And then you will thank me for keeping you around,” Ashara told him, with a cheeky grin on her lips.

He looked almost offended at her, as he retorted, “Keep me around? Excuse me, but I do believe it is me keeping you safe here, not the other way round.”

“Not really,” she said, “I have Benjen for my protection. You are just decoration.”

Her challenging smirk was met with a look of fierce defiance from the young Lannister. Unbeknownst to him, she had just tricked him into staying. His pride wouldn’t allow him to leave now, not when his purpose is challenged like that. No, he would stay, just to prove her wrong and show that he is the one who should lead.

* * *

 

She was alone in her personal library, hidden in the vaults underneath Myr, as she browsed through all the books her family had collected or written about dragons. Every word about these magnificent creatures could possibly give her a better chance at hatching another dragon without destroying half the realm in the process.

And she was thankful for the chance to busy herself like this. After Robert had left Summerhall in a fit of silent rage and denial, she needed a distraction. Anything was welcome at this point. Her friend’s reaction could possibly spell trouble in the near future and Rhaegar had enough discontent lords to deal with. The last thing he needed was a lovesick fool causing trouble for them all.

But she really didn’t want to think about Robert at all. Instead, she focused solely on the texts before her, no matter how mind-numbingly boring it would be. It was in moments like these, that she missed some of her friends from her former lives the most. One name always came to mind, whenever she had to research something. Hermione. She could not remember the face to that name, but she remembered the girl’s studious attitude and cleverness. Even among her new companions, who had all sorts of talents, none were as intelligent as Hermione had been. Or as Senna remembered the girl to have been. Memories of her first life had begun to become somewhat hazy and by the beginning of her next life, they would be little more than fond feelings and a set of skills she would carry on from one life to the next.

“Dragons, interesting weapons, but lousy pets,” Death drawled, as he appeared on the other side of the table Senna had sat down at.

“What do you want now,” Senna sighed.

She didn’t even bother to look at her annoying master. She had little doubt that his only reason for coming here was to mock her.

“You are wasting your time here,” Death told her matter of factly. “Your ancestors had been little more than sheep stealing peasants before the first among them learned to harness their magic and enslaved one of the dragons. They were never interested in writing down anything for posterity.”

“The Targaryens weren’t much interested in sharing their secrets either. I fear that most had been taught from one generation to the next.” It was a bitter realization. Such crucial knowledge, possibly lost because no one cared to remember it after the dragons had died off. “It would at least explain why the tragedy at Summerhall has happened. They tried to hatch a dragon. They tried so hard with so little information and everything got out of hand. I can’t allow this to happen again.”

“What a fool my latest servant has turned out to be,” Death muttered sadly, “I give you all the tools you could ever hope for and you do not even consider using them properly.”

“Tools?” Senna asked, confused for a moment.

Then she remembered. The Hallows. For some reasons, these three artifacts had traveled with her from one life to the next. The cloak had been used for many different tasks, some serious, some just to fool around. And the Elder Wand had been fused with Hecate’s staff, to empower the weapon further. But Death had not been talking about either of them. No, Death wanted her to use the blasted Resurrection Stone.

But why?

“Why are you helping me?”

“Let’s just say that I enjoy the carnage that comes from your actions. Each choice you have made in your second and third lives have ended with death and destruction. I enjoy the violence,” Death cackled evilly.

Senna really didn’t trust her master at all. Even this explanation sounded fishy. Sure, Death had little to no qualms about destroying all life on a world, there are plenty of others after all. But the embodiment of all that has gone in her life had never been so open about his motives. This wasn’t right. “Regardless of that flimsy excuse, I can’t use the stone. I don’t have it anymore.”

“You do. It is always with you, just like the cloak and wand. They are a part of you, never to be separated again,” Death said, before he vanished again, like a cloud of black smoke being blown away by a strong wind.

She sighed, as she thought about the implications of what Death had told her. She was sure that the stone was gone. She had destroyed it herself, many years ago. Too foul was its taint, too strong its temptation. She was sure that the stone would never offer answers or closure, only pain, and longing. That’s why she had seen it crumble to dust under the assault of Fiendfyre.

But Death had no reason to lie about the stone either. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath before she tried to focus on the feeling of dread that the stone had exuded. She shuddered for a moment before she felt something press against the skin of her finger. As she opened her eyes again, she saw it, the Ressurection Stone, in the form she had first seen it in. As the ugly stone of an even uglier ring. Of course, Death would give her Riddle’s old heirloom, all to remind her of the ever looming darkness in her life.

She scowled at the stone, as she inspected the ring more closely. The stone was completely unscathed, not even the slightest sign that would indicate that she had unleashed the fires of hell upon it. She could still remember seeing it crumble to dust, but here it was once more. Maybe it wasn’t the same stone and Death had tricked her, by giving her an exact copy of the blasted thing. But in the end, none of this mattered. The stone was back and Death almost desperately wanted her to use it. Just what horrors would it unleash upon this unsuspecting world?

She left her library, just to be sure that she wouldn’t damage it in any way. The few times she had used the stone in the past, it had done nothing but conjure up a faint echo of a long lost person. But in this world and after Death’s insistence, she wouldn’t take any risks.

She wanted to move towards one of the unused vaults, where nothing would be caught in the crossfire, but just as she passed the long corridor with her ancestors' weapons and armors, the stone began to glow.

It had never glowed before, so she was confused and began muttering curses. A faint mist escaped the stone soon after and began to fill the room until she was barely able to see her own hands.

“Just what have you done now, Death?” she shouted angrily. “What vile magic is this? Answer me, you damn bastard.”

“Such coarse language, how unbefitting of a Lady of House Peverell,” a female voice chided, her voice ripe with displeasure and condescension. “Is this what our house has become? What an utter disappointment.”

“Who are you?” Senna demanded to know.

“It should be I who asks the question, child!” The words were harsh and commanding, obviously uttered by someone who has never allowed anything less than absolute deference from others.

“I am Senna Peverell, last daughter of House Peverell and Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. I will not be intimidated by one of Death’s little parlor tricks!”

“The last?” the voice asked, unable to keep the obvious surprise contained.

It was then, that the mist slowly receded. But to her surprise, Senna was no longer in the dark corridor underneath her mansion in Myr, but on a terrace, with the sea crashing against the cliffs on one side of her and a burning mountain on the other.

“Our ancestral home, how long has it been since my last visit? Too long... No, not long enough,” the voice spat.

Then she finally revealed herself, Senna’s unknown assailant. A silver haired woman, almost half a head taller than her, with glowing eyes in the color of amethysts and robes that Senna knew all too well. The same robes she had taken for herself not long ago.

“Elaena Peverell!” Senna exclaimed as the realization hit her. Of all the people the stone could have conjured up, it had brought back the last true witch of House Peverell, a woman who had lived and died at the time of the Doom of Valyria.

“You don’t look like much, child. An utter buffoon, oh how much we are shamed at the end of our line,” Elaena sighed. “I had warned them to stop wedding their own sisters, but those fools hardly ever listened.”

“I am not some inbred idiot,” Senna defended herself angrily, “And I won’t allow a mere apparition to insult me like this!”

“An apparition?” Elaena let out a cruel laugh, as she finally turned around to face Senna head on. “You would do well to learn respect, insolent child.”

“I am...”

“A fool,” Elaena finished, as she raised her hand. “And a thief. No Peverell is allowed to take the armor and weapon of those who have come before!”

“What would you have had me do? Die and take our House with me into the long night? Valyria is gone. Our wonders are gone. Our powers are gone. I am the last. The last Peverell, the last Valyrian witch. There was no way for me to follow the old customs and make my own robes and armor. I do have neither the time nor the resources for such an endeavor. Not when my children are in mortal danger and enemies are hiding behind every corner!”

“We always knew that not even Valyria was meant to exist for ever. But to hear that all is gone… Even after the Doom, we had hoped...” Elaena trailed off, visibly saddened. She stared at the Volcano that was not far away, “The Fourteen Flames were our doom in the end. I knew that our magic was no longer enough to keep them controlled. And all that is left now… are you...”

Again Senna felt insulted by the way Elaena spoke about her. Maybe she wasn’t exactly the picture perfect Valyrian lady, but who could claim such a thing, when no one even remembered what they had really been like…

“You, child, are insufficient,” Elaena continued, “But you will have to suffice, whether I want it or not.”

“I am not here to be insulted. I came searching for knowledge,” Senna replied indignantly.

“Knowledge?” Elaena reiterated, once more accompanied by a cruel laugh, “You are barely worth to wear my robes, and here you stand, beseeching me to share my wisdom with the lesser being that is my last descendant? No, not the last maybe. You talked about children.”

“Yes. My son and my daughter. My children,” Senna told Elaena darkly. She wouldn’t allow this shadow of the past to insult her babies as well.

“So our House does have a future,” Elaena mused, “But tell me, who is the father?”

“The current king on the Iron Throne, Rhaegar Targaryen!”

“Targaryen!” Elaena shrieked. Her face had morphed into a visage that showed only utter hatred “You would allow one of those dreaded whoremongers to bed you? Do you have no shame at all?”

“Rhaegar is a good man and a good husband. I married him willingly and not just to prevent the last of Valyria’s noble Houses to perish alone, each in their own exile. House Peverell is at its end, but its legacy will live on,” Senna exclaimed, determination shining in her eyes.

“There are no decent men left in that house. Daeron the Black Flame had been the last and he had died when I had been a little girl. The rest… there is nothing good in them. My dearest niece, Vaella, had believed like you do. Such a gentle soul and sharp mind. But blinded by idealism. She had tried to broker a new peace with the Targaryens after the Doom. She had gone to Dragonstone, to offer herself to end the feud. They gutted her like an animal, after raping her days. The only things of her that ever returned to Myr were her eyes and hands, adorned with gold as if they were fancy trinkets. There can never be peace between our Houses.”

“There is. The peace I have created through my marriage to the Targaryen heir. The war is over, at long last.”

A war that had been nearly forgotten. By the time Steffon Baratheon had appeared in Myr, the Targaryens and Peverells had not interacted in almost a century. And from what Rhaegar had told her, only the most obsessed Targaryens had even remembered their old enemies. High and mighty on their thrones they had no longer considered the Peverells a threat and thus they had forgotten about them. Only Aerys, in his utter madness, had seen the need to write a list of all his enemies. He had been the first in several generations to acknowledge the Peverells as a threat. How odd that it was him, who sat on the throne when the last Peverell came to King’s Landing… and how he had been the last Targaryen to die by a Peverells’ hand... As if a master puppeteer had engineered it all…

“Your peace is a lie,” Elaena stated. There was no doubt in her voice and the way she carried herself. She had no doubts at all. She was so very passionate about her hatred that Senna had to realize that no words would sway the mind of her ancestor.

“Believe what you will, the opinions of the living matter, not those of the dead,” Senna replied icily.

“Yet here you stand,” Elaena said darkly. “You come here and drag me away from my well-deserved rest… for what?”

“Dragons...”

“What of them? House Peverell has given up on using these dangerous weapons long before the Doom. Magic was our trade, we had no need for unpredictable monsters,” the old Peverell said, her voice filled with pride as she spoke of her own powers.

Senna tried but failed to contain a derisive snort, as she looked at Elaena, “What a foolish choice. Magic is fickle bedfellow. I am the first witch in our family since the day of your death. Losing the dragons has made us weak and vulnerable.”

“You have no idea what you say. Dragons are wild and can never be tamed, foolish child. It was the hubris of the dragon lords to believe that they can control them forever,” Elaena paused for a long moment. A deep sigh escaped her lips, as she looked out towards the volcano once more. “Do you know where we are, child?”

Senna looked around, her eyes searching for anything she could remember. But there was nothing. She had never been to this place. Even the mountains and the coastline looked utterly unfamiliar and the sea was darker, more foreboding that she had ever seen before. So she shook her head.

“This is our home. Our family’s ancestral home in Valyria. I remember it well. The long and hot afternoons near the water, where I used to play with my siblings and cousins. The arduous hours of training in the great yard on the east side of the mansion… and even the dragon pen, where I witnessed the death of our last dragon, when I had been little more than a babe myself,” there was a profound sadness in the woman’s tone and on her face.

In a way, Senna could relate. To lose one's home is never easy. And in this case, her ancestor had lost so much more than just a home. The Doom of Valyria had left nothing. A great empire wiped out in the blink of an eye. And those few who had survived were left with nothing. From the rulers of the world to beggars with an uncertain future.

“I even remember this moment,” Elaena continued, “Etched into my memories, never to be forgotten. It was here that I was informed about the death of my beloved. Aerion, the last Keeper of the Fourteen Flames. They had him murdered because they had feared his power. Rightfully so. Of all the dragon lords, none had ever possessed such unbridled power. With a wave of his hand, he had controlled the fires of all Fourteen Flames, when all others could barely control more than two or three at most.”

“Was that the reason for the Doom? That those who controlled the volcanos fought against each other?” Senna asked, curious about this once in a lifetime chance to get the one answer to the question that plagues the minds of countless scholars and lords.

But Elaena wouldn’t give her that satisfaction, “I honestly don’t know,” she admitted, “The day Aerion died, I knew that we had to leave. Valyria wasn’t safe anymore and the death of a Flame Keeper would always lead to even more bloodshed. So the same day I received the bad news, I challenged my uncle to a duel. The winner would lead our House. I crushed him and took all Peverells with me to Myr. They had laughed at us in their towers in Valyria. They had ridiculed us, as they had done with others who had left. But their laughter died in their throats when the Doom came, not a full decade after we had left.”

“You took several dragon eggs with you when you left. So House Peverell had not given up on their dragons at that time...”

“Those eggs had not been brought to Myr by our family. But they were the reason for Myr’s founding,” Elaena replied evenly. “But that is a story for another day. I grow weary of you.”

“Wait. Just answer me this,” Senna rushed forward, “Have you saved the old scrolls and other knowledge about the hatching and raising of dragons?”

“That is not my story to tell,” Elaena replied simply before she faded away in the same way Death had done so many times before.

And as the old Peverell matriarch disappeared, so did the world around her. A heartbeat later, Senna was alone once more, standing between the statues of her ancestors…

* * *

 

“Now that is not the kind of man to enjoy the queen’s mercy,” Jaime muttered, as he saw a Septon leave the nearby building.

“They are as audacious as always,” Ashara muttered angrily, “The blatant disrespect to the queen is unbelievable. It's not just the blasted Septas, but also the Septons. They know that it is forbidden to them to try and preach in any of the buildings owned by the queen, yet here they are, acting as if they are the only ones who know right from wrong.”

“They are scared,” Jaime replied.

“Scared of one woman?” Benjen asked, surprised by this.

So far the youngest Stark had seen only little of the queen, despite her being responsible for him. One of her knights had taken him as his squire, a deal that had suited all of them well. But from the little he had seen, he didn’t think her to be a frightening woman.

“The High Septon fears for his power. I don’t even want to imagine what the idiots in Oldtown are up to at the moment. The queen represents the fire of the east, a different god and all that comes with him,” Jaime told the boy, “And they are right to fear her, she is a dangerous woman.”

“Silent now, let us follow this Septon. I want to see who else he is going to meet,” Ashara shushed them before she pulled the hood of her cloak a little further into her face.

She didn’t wait for Jaime or Benjen to say anything before she stepped out of the dark alley and onto the crowded street. She kept some distance from the Septon, to avoid detection. Thankfully it was easy to follow the man, as his gaudy clothing made him easy to detect among the smallfolk around him.

He soon left Flea Bottom and its dirty streets, to climb the paved ways on Visenya’s hill. At first, Ashara had expected the Septon to return to the Great Sept of Baelor, to report to his master. But he disappeared into another alley long before he would have reached the marbled walls of the Sept.

Instead, he approached the long row of mansions, the homes of noblemen and rich merchants alike, who looked down upon the poor and desperate, from their balconies high above the rest of the city. The streets in this part of the city were far less crowded. Only servants hurried around to do their lords’ biddings, as guards stood to watch outside of their masters’ homes, dressed in a plethora of different colors and sigils.

The Septon still continued walking for some more time, until he reached his destination. The guards outside didn’t even hesitate to let him in, as the Septon strolled in, his steps filled with purpose.

“This spells trouble,” Jaime muttered, as he appeared beside Ashara. “Do you know the sigil on that guard’s shield?”

“Black bats on a yellow field…” Ashara muttered, “House Whent?”

“Funny thing that a Septon who breaks the Queen's law is apparently a welcomed guest in the mansion of House Whent,” Jaime mused, “Makes one wonder. Isn’t there a Whent on the Kingsguard?”

“Ser Oswell,” Benjen supplied quickly, not realizing that it had been a rhetorical question. Just about anyone in the city knew about Ser Oswell Whent and his… escapades.

“I don’t like this,” Ashara replied. “Why would they conspire against the queen? What would they gain from that?”

Jaime chuckled dryly, as he looked at her, “Maybe they are not the ones you should fear. After all, their overlords, House Tully, are ruled by Lord Hoster, who had been married to a Whent himself.”

“I need to report this to the queen as quickly as possible!”

“Oh yes, maybe she can send her dragon over to roast them all. Would spare us the hassle to capture and interrogate them one by one,” Jaime muttered.

Ashara wasn’t sure whether he was being sarcastic again or not, but in the end, it mattered little either way. She had other things to worry about...

She turned away and left, followed by Benjen, who stayed close to her, ever dutiful as a Stark would. But Jaime watched for a moment longer and saw another figure enter the mansion. A woman with golden hair. His eyes wide in surprise, he turned away swiftly and ran to catch up with Ashara and Benjen. 

This truly wasn’t a good day for him, he decided...


End file.
